#[ more people acknowledging the deleted scene though YES THANK YOU ]

[ripgray-moved]

THIS PETEY EDIT IS SICKENING!!!!!

[jessamine-rose]

༻ The Golden Ratio ༺

Another deleted scene from Chemistry which I just had to recycle. May you all enjoy this fluffy, non-yandere take on Dottore and the science of love (≡^∇^≡)

♡ 0.9k words under the cut ♡

“Zandik, look over here! Aren’t these specimens remarkable?”

“Yes, they are,” he replies dismissively.

You frown, turning away the patch of Rukkhashava Mushrooms. Your classmate is still tinkering with the Ruin Guard, completely absorbed in his research.

“Liar. You didn’t even look at it.”

He doesn’t even try to deny it. “Can’t you see that I’m busy? If you allow me to finish my research, I can promise my full attention later.”

“But that’s what you said with the last sample,” you point out. “Is it too much to stop and admire the scenery for a few minutes? You are utterly rigid.”

Though you wouldn’t have fallen for him otherwise.

Zandik gives you an unamused look. “And you are too carefree, though I may recognize such childlike curiosity as befitting of your Darshan.”

You give him a bright smile. “Thank you for the acknowledgement!”

Was that a compliment or an insult? Either way, Zandik has been observing you!

As of now, your research expeditions have yielded little progress in your relationship. Your crush remains distant, focused on his work, at odds with your research approach. Still, you are thankful for the opportunity to witness him in action. To spend time with him.

Your own research is sufficient. You sit on the grass and watch Zandik, committing his visage to memory. After a few minutes, he breaks the silence.

“I am intrigued,” he says, “by your attitude to my research. The Sages always scold me whenever I express my fascination in these ancient machines.”

His research notes are neatly arranged beside his tools. The pages are marked with meticulous reports and detailed drawings. His enthusiasm practically bleeds into the paper.

You approach him, uncaring of your close proximity to the Ruin Guard.

“Well, I must disagree with them. No matter how dangerous those machines can be, they are still something to study. One might claim they are no different from my research specimens.”

“Ah, yes. Your little plants and animals,” he replies, glancing at your research notes. “And why do you research those subjects, may I ask?”

“Should there be an important reason?” you ask, adjusting your Amurta scarf. “It’s because they’re beautiful. Simple as that.”

Beautiful, mysterious, vital to this world.

“I did not take you for the poetic type,” he muses. “Anything can be deemed beautiful from one’s subjective perspective.”

“That is true,” you agree, “like your interest in the Ruin Machines. But objectively speaking, there are mathematical theories which can explain our prevalent standards of beauty. The golden ratio, for instance.”

“Ah, yes. That old thing.” A confident smile appears on his face. “I’ve read a thesis about the golden ratio in relation to facial aesthetics. Apparently, I am a good example.”

“Not a surprise. Many people find you handsome.”

“And what about you?” Zandik resumes eye contact, scarlet eyes tinged with amusement. “Do you agree with that conclusion?”

Your cheeks flush. “W-Well…yes, since you claim that your face fits the golden ratio.”

“That is an inadequate basis for your answer.” He stands in front of you and caresses your cheek, preventing you from looking away. “Why don’t you personally test that hypothesis? I will do the same with your face.”

He’s so close.

“All…all right.” You stay still and focus on his face, making the mental measurements.

His facial proportions are more or less congruent with the golden ratio. There are some details which may serve as basis for a counterargument, however.

His bangs obstruct your complete analysis. You’ve always adored his messy hairstyle, those stray curls which complement his character. You know from previous interactions that his hair is soft to the touch.

There is also his boyish, sharp-toothed grin which is equal parts manic and mischievous. His calm, close-mouthed smile is more aesthetically pleasing, but it lacks his unabashed ardor. Nevertheless, you are captivated with both versions, especially when those smiles are directed at you.

His eyes. They are like red suns, always bright and intense. There is a fascinated gleam in his gaze whenever he comes across something new.

It is beautiful. All of him.

His voice is what brings you back to reality.

“I am done with my measurements,” he announces.

“I…I see.” You give him a nervous smile, acutely aware that he is still touching your face. You’re blushing; can he tell? “So am I. Why don’t you go first?”

“You are beautiful.”

What?

Zandik taps his fingers on your cheek, tracing lines on your face. He’s close—too close, your flustered expression trapped in his ruby eyes. His expression is serious yet neutral, as though he is merely studying a specimen.

“A…according to which theory?” you stutter. “The golden ratio?”

He smiles at you. “I am speaking from my own personal opinion. If the laws of nature say otherwise, I must disagree and prove them wrong.”

A specimen worthy of his full attention.

Words fail you. What can you possibly say after receiving such a compliment?

Ever the diligent scholar, Zandik lets go of you and returns to the Ruin Guard.

“That is all I have to say,” he says. He picks up a rusty cog and takes notes. “And what of your observation? Do you find me beautiful, ______?”

You remain in your spot. “...Yes, I do.”

His tone is smug. “Objectively or subjectively?”

Honestly, why did you fall for someone like him?

“I’m not sure,” you admit.

“I see.” Zandik gives you one last smile, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “Let us continue this experiment later. I am not one to be satisfied with ambiguous results.”

♡

This was originally written for the second chapter of Chemistry, but it felt too “close” for Dottore and Assistant! Darling’s early relationship. So I just edited and moved it to the last few chapters. But I couldn’t waste the lovely thought of Dottore’s s/o falling for the parts of him which aren’t considered beautiful by the golden ratio, so here we are~

Anyway, I hope y’all enjoyed this deleted scene ft. college crush Dottore ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

Tag a Dottore enjoyer!! @gum-iie @sirbotik @surveyycorps @boundinparchment @ruayiri @darherwings @oofasleep @oh-no-i-am-here @nicebonescomrades @diaboliravioli @ryo-ri @unloadingdata @sodomewithlifern @maaarshieee @dottoreslittlelabrat @poweredbyghostadventures

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

Hi I am not too familiar with all the details but have some questions. I hope you don’t mind answering them. I thank you in advance for your time!

I think Tony and Peggy are more of the ends-justify-the-means kind. Is that why you are anti them?

I’m firmly Team Cap, I admire his steadfastness in principles though I wonder about Steve’s unquestioning faith in the flawed American ideals. Could that be also why he didn’t suspect Hydra has infiltrated Shield? But is that also why he is even more against Sokovia Accords?

Could you comment on this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D0XWTA1n-6M&t=27s ?

Hey there dear anon, I'm always happy to answer asks so thank you for yours. I wasn't expecting this to get so long so my most sincere apologies! Also, I get political on this one, just a heads up. More after the cut.

First things first: my main issue with Stark and Peggy is the framing. I like heroes and villains and everything in-between, it's the self-righteousness that I don't like and if the framing positions them as good people who have never done anything wrong in their lives it tends to get on my nerves lol If those two had been portrayed as what they are I wouldn't have minded them all that much.

That video was interesting (thank you for sharing) and I agree on certain points but disagree on others, mostly on the assumption that Steve believes the American myths, that "he's incompatible with a rejection" of those myths and he "can't coexist with an acknowledgement of the fact that America was built by slaves, etc".

And I disagree with it because while we don't have Steve openly talking about it, it's quite clear in his actions and words that those myths wouldn't be something he'd believe in. Steve is portrayed in these movies as a socialist, but not the way the Americans understand that word, he's a European socialist. He may not speak of immigration but he protects Wanda and is completely against her internment in the compound, he speaks of her and Pietro in AoU as kids who "are at war" - and that's a direct reply to Maria's "WE are not at war".

And this scene in AoU (yes it was deleted but still counts):

He takes off the helmet and fights without it. To me this shows he doesn't like that anyone would ever think of him as a fascist but he understands why someone would look at his suit and the flag it represents and come to the conclusion that he's "one of them". He's aware of the past, he's no fool.

In CW he may not speak directly of it but it is implied in his words that their job as heroes and protectors is not a matter of borders, he treats everyone exactly the same no matter where they're from - as proved in TFA when Erskine asks him if him being German is a problem and Steve immediately says no. Make no mistake, saying that is no minor feat, many people at the time wouldn't have been so sure.

Also, another thing I disagree with is that the video claims Steve is portrayed as the last bastion for truth and justice, etc and we have him and only him when it comes to defending those ideals, but that's not true at all. And I'm not referring to the other heroes, when he gives his speech in TWS his last line is "the price of freedom is high, always has been, but it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one then so be it, but I'm willing to bet I'm not". One of the best things about Steve is that he believes in people, he trusts that there are others just like him who have faith in the same values he does, and in TWS we see just that in Sharon, in that other guy who refuses to launch the ships, there are many people who can and do stand up to Hydra, and Steve knows that.

Then this "Steve represents the old-fashioned" as if that was a bad thing. People in modern times really need to acknowledge that the fights for human rights didn't start with Twitter. This belief that everything in the past was anti civil rights and if it comes from the 50's then it's necessarily conservative is just plain wrong. Whoever watches a movie from those times is very likely to see women having so much more agency than they do now, plots with feminist points and while yes, some of them might be misogynistic and racist, a lot of them are not.

Old-fashioned doesn't equate republican any more than modern doesn't equate progressive. When Steve is talking to Fury in TWS he admits the SSR did certain things that made it hard for him to sleep at night, that they had to "compromise". This line would seemingly agree with the video but the truth is Steve doesn't know even half of what was done in that time after he crashed the plane. Hell, he was surprised to hear about Zola and he didn't even know about Operation Paperclip until Natasha told him. What else didn't he know?

Also, to pretend that freedom and justice are inherent American ideals is hilariously ridiculous which is what the video does. Every time they mention Steve talking about them they seem to think he's parroting some weird fascistic republican views when that couldn't be further from the truth.

Steve is patriotic? Yes, of course. Why do they think he stands up to some people in the government? It's not because he's America-centric or believes that America was built by angels and there was nothing wrong done in how the country presented itself in the past, it's precisely because he knows it that he fights against it.

Those ideals are not specific to America and Steve knows this. He's the son of Irish immigrants who moved to the US in a time where they wouldn't be exactly welcome (we all have seen movies about this, Steve grew up during that time), he was disabled at a time where eugenics were in vogue, and he lived his early life in a specific part of NY where he'd be surrounded by artists and the leftist movement (as left as it can get in America, that is) and he went to Art School. Steve has never been conservative. [There are great metas on this site about this].

I get the feeling though that the video gets a couple things mixed up. I'm in Europe and with the recent rise of the far-right here the fascists have been parroting the same idea over and over again: that they're all about patriotism. And so they act like the flag, the anthem, the army... in short, anything that symbolizes their country is inherently their property. This of course is bullshit.

And so I think that seeing Steve wearing those colours makes the author of the video believe that he's in full support of the American way but that's not it. I can grab the EU flag and hang it in my room and that does not mean I'm fine with all the shit we have done in the past, it doesn't mean I don't acknowledge it or the mistakes we're making now. Look, I'm in Spain, I know what we did centuries ago. But the very act of loving one's flag is not justifying your past, it's acknowledging it and knowing you can do better, that you can be held accountable. The flag is not property of a few, it's property of the whole. And Steve wears it because he wants to do better. Also, the video should have made a distinction between Steve and Cap.

Regarding your questions, he did show he suspected Shield back in The Avengers when he discovered the Hydra gadgets and confronted Fury about it in the helicarrier. And yeah, he's completely against the Accords because they're a direct violation of civil rights. Notice how in the chat with Fury he's thinking of society as a whole, not just the US. It's not a matter of idealism either, Steve is not someone who thinks people should love each other and fly on unicorns, he's seen the worst of humanity, he's seen first-hand what people with power do, some of it good and some of it bad. That scene with Fury shows pretty well how both of them were raised in different times.

And last but not least, Civil War! The points the video makes are not exactly to my liking.

First they say Steve kept Stark in the dark about his parents' deaths: Steve didn't know it had been Bucky, he had no way of knowing it had been Bucky, he could assume it might have been him but he didn't know.

Then they claim what Steve does in the film is protect Bucky and frankly that point has been made ad nauseum and it's not true, Steve's stance against the Accords has nothing to do with Buck, he's against them in principle.

They also say Stark wanted to sign the Accords so they'll do "less missions" and "cause less carnage"? He wanted to sign because he felt guilty and didn't want any sort of accountability at all for whatever he did, that's all. The UN wasn't going with "let's sign these Accords so there will be less violence and more accountability" The accountability angle was propaganda, nothing more.

I do agree with one thing though, CW is not ideological and that's the writers' fault and Disney's. They didn't want to tackle that because the only way you can talk about it is by having the characters literally discussing civil rights for everyone. Imo if there's someone who portrays those 'conservative' American ideals it's Stark, not Steve.

But the thing I dislike the most is when they say "Steve's position is in the right and the America state in the wrong, an elected government legitimately elected by the people, and Steve stands against it". Yes, and? I don't need to remind anyone that Hitler was legitimately elected, do I? And we need to be careful when it comes to a character standing up to a particular action the government has taken and trying to paint that as the character standing up to the entire government - those two are not the same thing.

It's not that everyone in the US congress is a villain, it's that some are. It's not that the system is inherently wrong, it's that some people in it are doing it wrong and need to be held accountable. To claim that since people had voted for them they should be allowed to do whatever they want is... concerning.

So I'm sorry but no, I disagree with Steve being a paragon of America's exceptionalism. The movies are America-centred, that's for sure, but to claim Steve falls prey to that and he's some form of defender of those ideals, that he protects the belief that America never did anything wrong in history and that they're better than everyone else is a wrong assumption - believe me, if that was the case people like me wouldn't like him! Let me finish this with words from the man himself:

“I believe in the American dream. But THIS…this is some sort of NIGHTMARE!”

“You people telling me how I just don’t understand? When it’s you people—you clever people—who don’t get it. I don’t let people die because it’s the lesser of two evils, or expedient, or because it serves the greater good… I don’t compare the act against something else—I see someone who needs help… And I help. You think it’s a weakness. You think it’s simple… But you’re wrong. It’s what makes us human… Which is exactly what we’re supposed to be fighting for. I know who I am. I rescue the helpless. I raise up the hopeless. I don’t measure people’s lives… I save them.”

“Patriotism taken too far is fanaticism. No matter who you are or where you’re from. Foreigners aren’t your enemy, son. I’m the son of immigrants. When I was a kid it was my father’s people, the Irish, who were looked down on. Called filthy foreigners. Discriminated against. Is that the xenophobic America you want? All religions, all nationalities, we all want the same thing. To see our children grow strong. To provide safety to our families. To live in quiet times. Peace, son. Isn’t that why we became soldiers in the first place? To fight for a peaceful world?”

“There’s nothing patriotic about corruption or cover-ups…or defending them. But exposing them, well, that takes a hero.”

Sorry this got so long 🙊

[dewykth]

—CYBΞRSΞX (m)

pairing. jeon jungkook | female reader | park jimin genre & au's. smut, humor / camgirl!reader, camboy!pjm, rich boy!jjk word count. 10.213 warnings. please read ! multiple explicit sexual scenes, masturbation (f + m), porn, sexting, nudes, jk in a thong (bc yes), ice play, sex toys, face sitting, sub!jk, (soft) dom!reader, sub!jm, [18+] note. AHH it's finally here!! thank you to everyone who liked the teasers, i hope you'll enjoy this baby! this went thru a lot of editing, rewriting, and deleting, but i’m finally happy w it !! feedback is vv much appreciated <3!! note two. and yes, i did take the opportunity to write subby bts, bc i can, and we need more of it. thats it. sub jk rights! 

—shoutout to vira ( @periminkle​ ) for beta reading and making me laugh w her reactions <3 ily

[teaser #1] ♡ [teaser #2] ♡ [playlist]

synopsis. there are three rules you set for yourself when you signed up for cybersex.com. one, separate work from your personal life. two, do not get involved with any cyberboy, no matter how stupidly & unfairly gorgeous he is. and three, do not, under any circumstance, fall for a client. they're very simple, and very easy to follow. so why are you about to get in bed with park jimin, cyberboy extraordinaire, in order to spite a loyal client of yours?

 [ :: LOADING... my strange addiction :: ]

The hot pink log-in screen of cybersex.com is a sight Jungkook is embarrassingly familiar with. Frankly, he’s afraid to admit how many times he’s logged on this past week. It takes him no longer than a minute for him to input his account information, quickly searching for the sole reason he’s still on this site at all.

Jungkook glances at the time. He might still be able to catch a bit of your show tonight. Even if it were only for a few moments, it’d be enough for him until he actually got to talk to you tomorrow. Hopefully. 

Jungkook knows better than to think he could ever get enough though.

● LIVE!: sittin here undressed...

By Sweetheart666

83,938 viewing now

The screen goes black for a second before you appear, sitting on your bed with a pink pillow between your thighs. Jungkook sucks in a breath, feeling his dick twitch in his sweatpants. Your hands are on your chest, playing with your nipples and whining softly. Your sounds spur Jungkook further, his eyes glued to the completely fucked out expression on your face and (too soon) his dick is fully erect. He doesn't know how you're able to get him like this so quickly every time.

There's sensual music in the background, but Jungkook only focuses on the pretty sounds falling from your lips. Jungkook begins to palm himself through his sweats just as you tease your fingers over the band of the mesh shorts barely leaving anything to the imagination. Jungkook's skin is hot to the touch, and he can feel the sweat building on his forehead. 

“Oh? Do you guys want this off?”

Comments fill the screen quickly, all fervently voting in favor for removing the sheer white fabric. But this isn’t Jungkook’s first time, and he knows better than anyone you like for them to beg.

“Show me how bad you want me to take it off.”

v_steponmepls_ tipped 2,000 hearts!

secretly1ntoXhibitionism tipped 5,000 hearts!

bbybun14 tipped 1,600 hearts!

“Aww, is that all? Guess you don’t want it that much...”

Your fingers leave the band of your shorts, choosing to fiddle with the heart chain around your neck as you wait. Jungkook chuckles, knowing that the comments were all probably whining at your teasing. But as previously mentioned, Jungkook was a bit more experienced in your realm. His fingers dance on the keyboard of his computer.

nj_94 tipped 10,000 hearts!

Tiny red hearts fill Jungkook’s screen as he smirks, lying back against his headboard. He sees the way your eyes flash, before you’re smirking at the camera, as if you could see how desperate Jungkook was. 

“So needy, aren’t you, nj_94? Alright, I guess I can give you a little something then...”

Jungkook suddenly feels warmth on his face, and he realizes he’s fucking blushing at your attention. There was something about you acknowledging him in front of almost ninety-thousand people that made his chest swell with pride. He’s so fucking whipped, a thought that crosses his mind momentarily before his focus is back on you. When you finally remove your flimsy shorts, Jungkook moans loudly at the sight of your dripping core. Oh, how he wishes he could stuff his face in between your thighs. 

He pulls his sweatpants to his thighs, letting his dick spring free. Jungkook gathers his saliva, spitting into his hands before leisurely stroking his shaft. You play with your clit, moaning softly. He can see your juices dripping onto your mattress, leaving a mess. Jungkook briefly wonders how you would taste on his tongue. 

nj_94 tipped 15,000 hearts!

“Wow, straight to the point huh?”

When you slip two fingers into yourself and whine, Jungkook’s strokes begin to speed up. He moans, uncaring of the fact that it was past midnight. Jungkook is mesmerized by the sight of your small fingers pumping in and out of your entrance. Your moans begin to grow louder, and he can tell by the way your hips are grinding along your hands that you're getting closer to your release. Jungkook can feel his coming as well, his strokes becoming sloppier. 

“Fuck, I wish those were m-my hands instead of yours,” he mutters, lost in the way you’re making him feel. You moan louder, almost as if you could hear the words coming from Jungkook's mouth. It's impossible, but Jungkook lets his imagination wander. 

“You’d probably make me beg for it, w-wouldn’t you?” he chuckles breathlessly as you grind down on your hand. “I-i don’t m-mind, though,” Jungkook is sure he’s mumbling nonsense, yet he can’t find it in himself to care when he’s so close to his release. “I l-love begging for you.” His voice sounds echoey, but in his lust-ridden mind, he can’t make sense of anything else other than you, you, you. Jungkook watches through lidded eyes as your hips stutter. You thumb your clit a couple more times before a loud whine rips through you, and you're reaching your climax. 

Jungkook keeps his gaze on you, stroking himself a few more times until he too is spilling his seed all over his abs with a low groan. He’s left breathing harshly, lying on his back as he stares at the ceiling in a post-orgasmic haze. It takes a couple of minutes for Jungkook to fully recover before he looks at his computer screen again, realizing your live has abruptly ended. He sighs wistfully before closing his laptop shut.

Until tomorrow.

[ :: LOGGING IN... computer (almost, but not really) luv ::]

[ENDED]: feelin a bit bratty tonight?

By Sweetheart666 

106,729 viewers / 202,728 hearts

jacker82: sailor moon cosplay plssssss?

i_swallow_: feet?

James Miller Jr.: would love to take you to dinner some time!

_tittystan_: OH MY GODDD PLSS PUNCH ME IN THE FACE T-T

catdaddyXoX: ur so hawt yumm XD

Scrolling through the comments section and reading them out loud always made you giggle to yourself. They were either always some absurd comment or a simple compliment thrown your way. And you’d be lying if you said doing these videos didn’t make your confidence go up tenfold. During the past few months you’ve been a Cybergirl, you’ve been steadily growing a following. Your past three videos have done exceedingly well, but it was always your lives that got the most attention. 

It started as an easy way to get money to pay your bills. A lonely night in your apartment spent drinking cheap wine and crying about how pathetic you felt, because you couldn’t keep a job to save your life, led you to the hot pink sign up screen of Cybersex.com.  You told yourself it would be just for you to get yourself back on your feet, but as you began to post more and see the numbers in your bank account go to the triple digits, you grew a penchant for the website. 

All it took was a bit more effort into your videos for it to become your main source of income. You’ve grown much more comfortable around the camera than when you first started, and with that you've also been able to claim your place on the Hot200. It was undemanding work, for the most part. As expected, there was heavy competition between the cybergirls, which only worked to fuel your desire to chart. You had to come up with new and creative ideas for every video, and if you were being honest, you’d say you were pretty fucking good at what you do. And of course, there was no way for you to get fired.

To put it in simpler words, you loved being a cybergirl.

But, the best part, if you had to choose, were the personal clients. The ones who would pay an additional price in order to be able to talk to you directly, maybe even get a private show or pictures if they gave a bit more. You had yet to give a private show to anyone, which was pretty expensive depending on the popularity of the cybergirl.  Not that you were complaining, there were enough message requests to keep you pleased and your pockets full.

An alert appears on the corner of your screen, signaling the low battery of your computer. After plugging it in you opt to clean your cam set-up, putting away your toys and equipment. You check the time on your phone, noting that you had time to shower before your upcoming session. One that you had been waiting impatiently for all week. 

When you emerge from your bathroom, you pick up your phone again, scrolling through the messages until your eyes fall on one in particular. You look at the time. Punctual as always.

[𝟷:𝟹𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʜᴇʏ ;)

Him.

Nj_94 was your most loyal client, but he only messaged you twice a week. It’d been almost four months since you first started talking to him and you’d be lying if you said his messages didn’t leave you feeling giddy inside. Granted, you’ve never met him, nor do you even know what he looks like, but it didn’t exactly matter to you. Getting to know him over the soft pink message threads of the Cybersex app, you've definitely grown a soft spot for him. There was something about his cute, albeit awkward, self that sometimes had your mind brewing up visions of him beneath you, quivering and begging and-

You digress.

Your back hits the soft silk sheets of your bed, deciding to make him wait a bit. If there was anything you loved more than your little sessions with nj_94, it was teasing him. 

[𝟷:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜɪ…

There’s not a moment for you to put down your phone before there’s a chain of pings! echoing through the quietness of your bedroom.

[𝟷:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʜɪ 

[𝟷:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴍɪssᴇᴅ ᴜ 

[𝟷:𝟹𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴏ?  

[𝟷:𝟹𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs. ᴠᴇʀʏ.  

ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ… 

ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ…

The text appears and reappears several times before his message finally graces your screen.

[𝟷:𝟹𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴅɪᴅ ᴜ... ᴍɪss ᴍᴇ?

Of course you did, but you’d never tell him that. You sit up on your headboard, playing with the frill of your shorts for a few moments before typing out your message.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜᴍᴍ... ᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅs

[𝟷:𝟺𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴅɪᴅ ᴜ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ᴜ?

On the other side of the screen lays Jungkook on his bed, eyes wide as he stares at your message. He knew you were going to ask him about it, but he didn’t think you’d do it right away. Of course he listened. And he enjoyed it an embarrassing amount, something he’d never be able to admit to anyone except you. Shaky fingers tap on the screen of his phone, typing out his response before he clicks the send button.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs ɪ ᴅɪᴅ  

[𝟷:𝟺𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜᴏᴡ ᴅɪᴅ ɪᴛ ғᴇᴇʟ ʙᴀʙʏ?

His heart quickens when he reads the sentence. It wasn’t uncommon for you to call him pet names, but it usually meant he was in for the night. And probably on your good side.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɢᴏᴏᴅ. ʀʟʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ.  

[𝟷:𝟺𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏʜ ᴄᴍᴏɴ ʙᴀʙʏ... ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ?  

[𝟷:𝟺𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɴᴏ ɪ 

[𝟷:𝟺𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ... ʀᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ ᴛᴡɪᴄᴇ

A blush appears on Jungkook’s cheeks almost immediately after he types out the message. No matter how many times he’s texted you the most indecent and lewd words, he’ll probably never be able to fight the shyness that accompanies it.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏʜ? 

[𝟷:𝟺𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ… ᴀʀᴇ ᴜ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ɪᴛ?

Jungkook glances down at his bare thighs, where the thin fabric wraps around his hips. He gulps.

[𝟷:𝟺𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs. 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: [ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟺.ᴊᴘɢ]

There’s a moment where your mouth hangs open, watering at the sight of his salacious thighs. But, the thin black lace barely covering his prominent bulge is what makes you squeeze your thighs together. If his texts weren’t enough to show how desperate he was for you, this unexpected picture definitely got the point across. God, he was such a—

[𝟷:𝟻𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʙᴏʏ. 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʙᴀʙʏ 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.]sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴜ ᴇᴀʀɴᴇᴅ ɪᴛ

Jungkook's heart throbs, or is that his dick? Either way, it's almost humiliating how easy it is for you to rile him up from a few words. You just had that effect on him. And, god, did he fucking love it.

[𝟷:𝟻𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴜᴍ 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴜ 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴘʟssss :(

This was... new. Usually, you only allow him to be the one receiving all the attention and pleasure. Despite the waning professionalism in your relationship, this was still your job. It was only after your sessions that you'd grant yourself to come to the fresh memory of his whining and pleading. But who were you to deny him?

[𝟷:𝟻𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ...ᴏᴋ ʙᴀʙʏ 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʀ ᴜ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʏᴇᴛ ʙᴀʙʏ?

[𝟷:𝟻𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʏᴇs. ʙᴇᴇɴ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴅᴀʏ 𝟺 ᴜ…

His fingers itch, his cock aching for any form of relief, but he knows better than to do anything without your permission. Besides, you make it all worth it in the end.

[𝟷:𝟻𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ 𝟸 ᴛɪᴍᴇs 𝟸ᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡɴᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ?

[𝟷:𝟻𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴇᴅʏ, ʜᴜʜ? 

[𝟷:𝟻𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʏᴋ ᴡʜᴀᴛ 𝟸 ᴅᴏ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏʏ

nj_94 has sent 3,000 hearts!

[𝟷:𝟻𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇᴇᴇ

You laugh breathlessly despite the wetness building between your thighs at his begging. Your hand slips behind your back, unclipping your bralette before slipping it off and throwing it somewhere in your room. You angle the camera so that only the top half of your body shows before snapping the picture.

[𝟷:𝟻𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: [ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟻.ᴊᴘɢ]

Fuck. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of the image of your bare chest. Your hand sits right above the band of your thin panties, before the image cuts off. There’s a teasing glint in your eyes as you bite your lip, staring straight into the camera. Jungkook can’t help it, he whines. His hand is pulling the black panties down to his mid thigh before he can think. He sighs at the feeling, grabbing the strawberry lube -your favorite- from his nightstand drawer and squirting a generous amount into his palm. He begins to leisurely stroke his member before a ping! from his phone interrupts him.

[𝟸:��𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴜᴄʜ?  

[𝟸:𝟶𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ғғᴄᴋ ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴜʀs. ᴜʀ sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɴɢ ʜᴏᴛᴛ 

[𝟸:𝟶𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴡɪsʜ ɪ ᴡs ᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡ ᴜ

You wish so too. To have him begging to touch you, to feel you, right in front of you? Fuck, it definitely did things to you. He did things to you. And you wanted to show him.

[𝟸:𝟶𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: [ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟼.ᴍᴘ𝟺]

Jungkook’s hand falters when he sees you’ve sent a video. Not that it was uncommon, but usually he’d have to send hearts first. But, he decides not to question it, instead choosing to click on the video. It takes a few moments to load, but once the first few seconds start playing, Jungkook’s mouth drops. 

Your fingers are in your mouth, sucking and lathering them in spit before they trail down your body and under the fabric of your thin panties. Jungkook doesn’t need to see it, no, he can hear how wet you are. The sounds of your soft moaning and your fingers entering you drive Jungkook utterly wild, and he finds himself whimpering. He can’t stop watching the way you bite your lips and giggle, as if you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Of course you knew. 

Jungkook replays the video, deliberate strokes of his hand sounding through the quietness of his room. “F-fuck, ____... what are you doing to me...” There’s another ping! that seems to reverberate in his head, and Jungkook slows his movements before he can get too lost in the endless ocean of his thoughts.

[𝟸:𝟷𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: sᴘᴇᴇᴄʜʟᴇss, ʙᴀʙʏ? 

[𝟸:𝟷𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏʀ ʀ ᴜ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴜʀsᴇʟғ ʙᴄ ᴏғ ᴍᴇ?  

[𝟸:𝟷𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ғғᴄᴋ ɪ ᴄɴᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ 

[𝟸:𝟷𝟿 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴜʀ sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɴ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛғʟʟ 

[𝟸:𝟸𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴄᴀɴ ɪ sɴᴇᴅ sᴍᴛʜɴ ɴ ʙᴀᴄᴋ?  

[𝟸:𝟸𝟶 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴏғᴄ ʙᴀʙʏ

A few minutes pass before your phone finally vibrates, your screen lighting up with a new message. 

[𝟸:𝟸𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: [ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ𝟶𝟼𝟽.ᴍᴘ𝟺]

You hesitate for a bit, biting your lip before you press play. The sound of his hand fervently sliding up and down his shaft fills your ears, soft whines of pleasure slipping through the speaker of your phone. If you weren't turned on before, you definitely were now. Your hand travels down your body, slipping underneath your panties. Gasping at the pool of your wetness, your hand moves along your clit expertly as his hand slides along the mess of precum and red lube. Strawberry.

Right as the video is reaching the last ten seconds, your hands speed up against your heat. Your thoughts are clouded, lidded eyes staring at nj_94’s huge cock. Right before the video ends, you hear his voice, muttering nonsense, but that isn’t what makes you cease your motions. “F-fuck, ____, see what you do to me.”

It’s clear he doesn't realize he’s said your name, your actual name. But that's not even the weirdest part. No, because the voice sounds too familiar to you. Similar to the voice of— ping!

nj_94 has sent 5,000 hearts!

[𝟸:𝟹𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ғᴄᴋ ɪᴍ ᴄʟᴏᴇs 

[𝟸:𝟹𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ʟᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴄᴜᴍᴍ 

[𝟸:𝟹𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴘʟssss?  

[𝟸:𝟹𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: [ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ𝟶𝟾𝟹𝟽.ᴊᴘᴇɢ]

The still image of your drenching core is enough for Jungkook to spill his seed all over his hand. His hand slows as he pumps the last spurts of his cum, chest heaving harshly. He grabs a couple of tissues from his nightstand, using it to clean the cum off of his fingers.

[𝟸:𝟺𝟷 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ɴᴊ_𝟿𝟺: ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ  

[𝟸:𝟺𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴏғ sᴇʀᴠɪᴄᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏʏ

[𝟸:𝟺𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼:,, ɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ 

sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ... 

sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼 ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ...

Jungkook’s head is spinning, but he doesn’t think it’s from the breathtaking orgasm you had just given him. He’s on edge as he watches the little typing bubble appear and disappear multiple times. What could you possibly be ‘thinking’ about? Were you thinking of ending this whole thing? Oh god, were you thinking of—!

[𝟸:𝟺𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴀᴍ ɪ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ʟɪᴋᴇ?

No, this was definitely much worse. Jungkook never would have guessed how far this would have gone when he first impulsively texted you all those months ago. After the first two months, when the sexting had turned into a regular thing, he knew you’d eventually grow curious.  He knew you’d eventually ask. And, god, does he wish he had the fucking balls to tell you. 

Jungkook would be lying if he said this hadn’t turned into something more than just sexting. At least for him. He wasn’t really sure how you felt about him, though sometimes the things you’d say when you were coaxing him into an orgasm would go to his head, and he’d think, if only for a moment, that maybe, just maybe, you felt something more as well.

But after he’d come down from his high, and come down back to reality, Jungkook knew it was just wishful thinking. How could you have feelings for someone you’ve never met, never seen? Even if you did, it wasn’t Jungkook you felt something for, it was nj_94. Which, yes technically was him, but not to you. You probably thought it was, well, literally anyone except your nerd of a neighbor who was too much of a coward to tell you who he was. What the hell would he even tell you? How the hell would he tell you?

“Oh, hey, _____! You know that guy you’ve been sexting consistently through Cybersex for four months? Well, surprise! It’s been me the entire goddamn time!”

SLAP!

Yet, even in the safety of his imagination, you're fuming, ears blowing steam as you slam the door in his face. A demand to never speak to you again, and Jungkook sinks into the floor from shame and embarrassment. Sometimes, you’d laugh in his face, disbelieving, or worse, unwanting of him.

Jungkook’s mind was a weird and ghastly place.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at your message, but he sees you’ve gone offline, probably tired of waiting for him to reply. His thumbs hover over the keypad of his phone, but he can’t bring himself to say anything, not even to jokingly brush you off. There have been many moments before where you’ve brought up what nj_94 looks like, but somehow this time it feels different. Jungkook can’t pin down the feeling coiling in his stomach, so he does what he does best.

He ignores it.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The blaring sound of your alarm fills the once quiet room, ripping you away from your peaceful slumber, and you groan loudly into your pillow. Your hand fumbles around your nightstand as you try to blindly reach for your phone. Once you're able to turn off your alarm, you hear the pounding at the door. You lift your head, able to make out muffled calls of your name through your clouded mind. Who the fuck is trying to knock the door down so early in the morning? 

You choose to bury your face in your pillows again, shifting the duvet over your head in order to block out the noise. Reaching for your phone once again, your eyes take a moment to adjust to the bright screen, and- oh, shit, you’re running late... again.

You throw the covers off your body, almost falling over the heap of clothes strewn over your bedroom floor. The knocking continues, and you rush out of your room, throwing the door open without sparing another glance at who’s standing at your doorstep.

“Give me five minutes!”

The figure chuckles, entering the threshold as you run back to your bedroom to throw on something presentable. “Rough night?” he says, voice sounding muffled through the closed door.

You laugh breathlessly, “More like rough weekend.” but you’re sure your voice is too quiet to be heard. Hastily brushing your teeth, you attempt to slip on your sweatpants at once. Following your successful multitasking and finishing your morning routine in record time, you emerge from your bedroom. Grabbing your keys and book bag from the living room, you pad over to the shoe rack near the front door.

“Wow, you should start waking up late every day if you’re gonna get ready this fast.”

You roll your eyes turning to shoot Jungkook a glare, “Don’t worry, I’ll start taking my time now just for you.”

Not waiting for a response, you open the door, gesturing for him to exit. He curtsies before he begins walking down the hallway to the elevator, you following closely behind.

-----

There’s something different about you today.

You’re quiet, gazing into the distance as you both walk to the coffee shop a few blocks away from your university campus. He tries to think nothing of it, chalking it up to the sleepiness still wearing off from the early morning. But usually you’d be pointing out random things on the street, or teasing Jungkook endlessly. And maybe he might miss the (albeit playful and meaningless) flirting, but he’d never say that out loud.

You reach the shop without a word, the sound of the city waking up and Jungkook’s boots hitting the pavement the only source of noise between you. When you reach the cashier, you’re still dazed, and if Jungkook didn’t know your order by heart (something he also would never admit), you’d probably forgo ordering anything.

Despite noticing all the things off today, Jungkook decides to not ask. He really doesn't want to push you to talk. And you’d come to him if there was something really bothering you.

At least that’s what Jungkook tried to do, but when you continue to be off in your own world, unknowingly ignoring his attempts at making conversation, he decides fuck that. And even though Jungkook would deny, again, if anyone would ever ask him, he does care deeply for you. Anything bothering you, bothers him.

“Alright, what’s up?” he asks, trying to seem casual despite rethinking the words a thousand times in his head.

“Huh?” you blink, coming back down to earth. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook sends you a disbelieving look, “You know what I mean. I asked you three times if you wanted a piece of my cheese danish, and you haven’t said a word since we left your apartment. So, what’s up?”

You duck your head, suddenly feeling bashful for ignoring Jungkook, but you haven’t been able to stop thinking about... him since the weird conversation you had on Friday. And to make matters worse, the fucker has been ignoring you. The only times he has bothered to text, was only to cancel your Saturday night appointment, despite the money already being transferred to your account. And when you tried to send it back, he declined the request without a word. Everything that he does leaves you more confused than before, and now you’re left to deal with these gross feelings building inside you. 

Because even if you’re trying to ignore it, and him, as much as possible, your stupid brain can’t help thinking about all the sessions you’ve had with him, and all the mundane conversations that crossed the strictly business and purely sexual line. It was all too much, and you wished you could make sense of at least some of it, but now he won’t even talk to you. You can’t help thinking that maybe you had imagined it all. That maybe you had somehow convinced yourself that he felt the same way you did.

Or maybe he felt that it was becoming too much, too intimate, too serious, and wanted nothing to do with it. But even then, why couldn’t he have just told you that? Why did he have to fucking ghost you, for crying out loud? Why did-!

“Hello? Earth to _____!”

You blink, eyes focusing on the hand waving in front of your face. “Fuck, did I do it again?”

Jungkook chuckles, and you try to ignore the way your heart skips a beat. What the hell is up with you today? “Seriously, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” you hesitate, because what would you even call this? The whole situation is weird if you were to explain it to, well, literally anyone else. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook thinks you work as a coder from home. “Boy problems.” 

Jungkook clears his throat, averting his eyes and choosing to focus on the grey concrete beneath him. “O-oh,” and as much as he doesn’t want to know about the other guy who’s got you so in your head, he still asks, “do you want to talk about it?”

You’re quiet for a moment, and Jungkook thinks that you might not say anything, that you might brush him off. He almost sighs in relief but then-

“Well, there’s this guy, and well- uhm,” you stare at the iced coffee in your hands, contemplating how to word your thoughts without actually spilling your secret. “We’ve never actually met, or anything, but we’ve been talking through this,” you pause again, glancing at Jungkook, whose jaw is clenched, “dating site. And well, we’ve been talking for about four months...” 

Jungkook almost trips over his own feet whipping his head to look at you. You’re still talking, but now his brain is hazy and he can't think straight. No...  you couldn’t... you’re not... you can’t be... you can’t be talking about... him, right? There’s... there’s no way. It has to be someone else. It has to be a coincidence that almost everything you’re saying sounds exactly like your relationship with... nj_94. Right? Right, of course, you’re definitely talking about someone else and it’s all in his-!

“...and when i asked, if uh, i’d ever get to see him, he kinda ghosted me, so, yeah.” you laugh nervously, noting the way Jungkook hasn't said a thing.

But, Jungkook is more sure than ever that you’re talking about him, well, not him, but nj_94, which technically- ok, you know what? It doesn’t matter because he feels nauseous and he’s sure he’s about to empty the contents of his stomach right here on campus in front of everyone. And now you’re looking at him with worry in those beautiful gleaming eyes of yours and oh, god, he needs to do something, anything to make this go away. Jungkook opens the lid of his coffee, taking a huge gulp without thinking anything of it because- OH FUCK!

IT’S FUCKING SCALDING. OH, GOD HIS TONGUE IS FUCKING BURNING AND HE’S SPUTTERING AND SPITTING THE COFFEE BACK OUT AND FUCK, IS HE SWEATING? IT’S SIXTY FUCKING DEGREES OUTSIDE AND HE’S SWEATING? NOW YOU’RE LOOKING AT HIM WITH CONCERN IN THOSE BEAUTIFUL GLEAMING EYES- wait, isn’t that the exact reason he’s stuck in this situation? God, what were you doing to him?

Jungkook barely registers the fact that you’ve both stopped walking, and are standing underneath one of the big trees on your campus. There’s a hand on his shoulder, and he realizes through his mess of a mind that it's yours. 

“Jesus, Kook, are you okay?”

“Mhm,” he says, like a liar because no, he’s not okay, far from it actually. Because you’re fucking talking about him, and you don’t even fucking know it. God, the last thing he wanted was to make you feel like this. Truthfully, Jungkook doesn't exactly know why he’s been ignoring you. It was in a panic that he had cancelled your next session, afraid to talk to you after the sucker move he had pulled Friday night. 

And he knows, he fucking knows that avoiding it is just making it worse. And that it won't go away, no matter how much he tries to ignore it. Jungkook is at a loss for what to do, and it's not like he could go to his friends to ask for help. This whole situation was too fucking absurd to even bother explaining. But if there was one good thing coming from this, it was learning that you did actually care about him, or...erm...nj_94, at the very least. Sure, there were almost a million other things Jungkook had to figure out, but hey, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets there.

Jungkook unconsciously pouts, willing the tingling on his tongue to go away. He’s too busy glaring at the offending coffee in his hands to notice the way your worried stare turns into one of suspicion, if only for a moment.

“Awww, do you want me to make it better?”

His head whips up at that, eyes widening at your words. Innocent and insignificant, yet Jungkook can’t help but think of the videos where you use the same tone. He’s sure that he’s completely forgotten the scalding burn on his tongue now. And it’s then that he sees it. The amused glint in your eyes, and the way your lips are pursed, seemingly holding back a laugh.

You’re making fun of him.

Jungkook scoffs, pushing your hand off his shoulder. You offer him the ice in your now empty cup, but he only rolls his eyes. You both toss your drinks in the can next to you, continuing the walk to your morning class. 

And he tries to act upset, he really does, but when he sees you start to laugh, he can’t help but do the same.

 [ :: ENTER... the (cyber)boy of your dreams ::]

There’s a familiar ping! that sounds through your bedroom, making you run out of your bathroom, toothbrush hanging from your mouth as you reach for your charging phone. 

[𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟸 ᴘ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴄᴀɴ ɪ ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴀʏ ʜᴏᴡ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪғᴜʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠɪᴅ ʟᴀsᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ?

Trying to ignore the slight pang of disappointment in your chest, you roll your eyes at his compliment. Typing out a response, you hit send before chucking your phone across your bed, huffing as you plop onto your mattress.

[𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟹 ᴘ.ᴍ] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴅᴏ ᴜ sᴇɴᴅ ᴛʜɪs ᴛᴏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɢɪʀʟ ɪɴ ᴜʀ ɪɴʙᴏx?  

[𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟹 ᴘ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴀʙʏ ;)

Jimin was a bit of an icon in the cybersex world, adored by fans and other cyberboys alike. His videos centered on a more… demanding persona, which is what got him his mass audience. It obviously worked in his favor, if a peek at his account was anything to go by.

ParkJimin 

@mincams

1,500,000 monthly viewers / 10,183,209 hearts

Most Popular: be a good girl, would you? / 7,937,937 views

And while a lot of cyberboys faked their personalities on screen, everything Jimin did had a sense of genuinity, and there was no doubt he was just as dominating in real life as he was on camera. You’d know better than anyone.

Jimin had begun texting you a few months ago, right when your videos had begun charting. It definitely took you by surprise, having only been messaged by two other cybergirls asking where you had bought your lingerie. And seeing his immense following only made you question it even more. What did he want to do with you when there were so many others who were more... on his level? 

Yet, despite you sometimes disregarding his messages due to the suspicion you had in the early weeks, there would still be a text from him every Wednesday without a doubt. This obviously led to you, eventually, texting him back, if only to satiate your curiosity. And well, he was definitely... intriguing, considering the fact that you’ve been speaking ever since. Though, your ‘acquaintance’  with him has definitely crossed that line of playful flirtiness and frisky texting.

Cyber fuck buddies was probably the best way to describe your relationship with Jimin now. One lonely, frustrating late night had led to you and Jimin exchanging some very lewd thoughts with each other. And yes, although you had broken your second rule of being a cybergirl, the intense orgasm Jimin had given you was enough for you to... tweak them a bit. 

See, at the beginning of your Cybersex journey, you had set rules for yourself, if only to make your job easier. And rule number two was to never get involved with a cyberboy. And, really, you were doing a great job at ignoring them completely, then Jimin had managed to slip his way into your life. But could you really blame yourself? Jimin was fucking hot, and you had your own desires that needed to be satisfied every once in a while. When he had just offered himself up, what were you supposed to do? Say no? It’s not like you were fucking him in real life anyway. 

So, you changed that rule to never fuck a cyberboy. Harder to actually break and straight to the point. And yet... here you were, thinking of bringing none other than Park fucking Cyberboy Jimin onto your next show.

And you know, it sounds fucking stupid because what the hell? Did you not go over your own rules just now? But Jimin was the only one that could (possibly) help you in this very... unique situation. And, no, you were not gonna fuck him. Despite how much you’ve bent your rules, you were still going to try to respect them. Besides, you had other plans for him. 

Like you mentioned before, Jimin was as demanding in his videos as in real life. Yet, there he’d be, in your direct messages, damn near begging for an opportunity to film a video with you. 

Who would have thought that Park Jimin, the one who has everyone begging for him, actually wanted to be on his knees for you. 

And at first it was easy to brush it off as a meaningless joke. Hell, you’d even respond back with a quip of your own. But when he actually explained himself, you had to say, all his points were very convincing. Something about gaining a bigger platform and a more ‘enlightening’ sexual experience. But, you had never brought anyone on your channel, and honestly, you had brushed the idea of a ‘partnership’ with him to the back of your mind. That is, until now.

Now, you needed him more than ever, for your own reasons.

[𝟸:𝟸𝟸 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɪs ᴜʀ ᴏғғᴇʀ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴜᴘ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ... ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʙᴏʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛ?  

[𝟸:𝟸𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ɪ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀsᴋ 

[𝟸:𝟸𝟹 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ ɪᴛ ɪs   

[𝟸:𝟸𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪ’ʟʟ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ. 

[𝟸:𝟸𝟺 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴs.  

[𝟷𝟸:��4 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sʀs? 

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟻 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: sᴜʀᴇ...ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ  

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɪᴍ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ 

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ɴ ᴡᴇ ғɪʟᴍ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴛʜɪs sᴀᴛ. 

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟼 ᴀ.ᴍ.] sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ𝟼𝟼𝟼: ᴅᴇᴀʟ?  

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸�� ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ʏᴏᴜ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ᴀ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʙᴀʀɢᴀɪɴ, sᴡᴇᴇᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛ.  

ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ... 

ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs ɪs ᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ...

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟽 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: ᴅᴇᴀʟ. 

[𝟷𝟸:𝟸𝟾 ᴀ.ᴍ.] ᴍɪɴᴄᴀᴍs: sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sᴀᴛᴜʀᴅᴀʏ ;)

The buzz of quiet conversation fills the room, accompanied by the sounds of the documentary playing on the projector that no one could be seen paying attention to. Even the professor seemed to be falling asleep grading papers near the corner of the room. There were excited whispers of a party later tonight, but you, you were ecstatic for reasons completely different.

“Pssst! Jungkook!”

Jungkook lifts his head, looking around before he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around and almost jumps back in shock from how close your face is to his. 

“Uh, yeah?” he whispers back.

There’s something in your smile that throws him off, demure and something else he can’t seem to figure out. Maybe Jungkook pays too much attention to anything you do. Fuck, you're driving him crazy just sitting there.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“Uh, no... why?” he stutters, and maybe it’s just the dark lighting in the room, but he swears he sees your eyes gleam. 

“No reason,” you respond, leaning your head against your hand. Your other hand comes to toy with the necklace sitting around your neck. “But I’d advise you to stay home this weekend.”

His eyes widen. What the fuck? Did Jungkook hear you correctly? Or is he starting to hear things too? What the hell are you doing to him? “W-what?”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard about the... show,” you make sure to look right into his eyes, “playing tomorrow night. I heard it was going to be really special.”

Jungkook blinks multiple times, sure the confusion and shock is written on his face as he stares at you. Fuck, he doesn’t know if he heard you correctly, and he’s too afraid to ask. He’s only able to dumbly murmur a “what?”

You only smile, no indication that those words had actually left your mouth. Except the fact that Jungkook had seen it. “There’s supposed to be a storm tomorrow. It’s not safe to go out.”

The lights flicker back on, and students begin to get up to leave the lecture hall. Jungkook is glued to his chair, staring at the desk you had just been sitting in. He’s too stunned to even bother thinking of a response, but luckily (or unluckily) you don’t seem to mind it. Instead you rise from your seat, swinging your bag over your shoulder. 

“I’ll see you later, Jungkook.”

He glances up, swallowing hard at the coy grin on your face. Jungkook can’t help but follow your movement, watching as you pause at the door. You turn your head, making sure that you meet his eyes once again before winking at him. You take your leave, disappearing down the hallway but lingering in Jungkook’s mind.

There was... no way you knew, right? He’d been so careful not to let anything slip. Maybe you were talking about a TV show? As much as Jungkook tried to tell himself that it was all in his head, that no, you didn’t know about his not-so-little secret, somewhere, in the back of his mind, a voice kept telling him that it was futile.

He’s embarrassed to admit that once he gets into the safety of his apartment, he runs to his computer, biting his nails as he waits for it to turn on. Jungkook clicks on the pink heart icon in the corner of his home screen, inputting his memorized account information.

USERNAME: nj_94

PASSWORD: boyzwithfun97

Jungkook hasn’t logged onto Cybersex since last Saturday, but searching for your name is like clockwork. Right as he clicks on your profile, he sees you’ve made a new post. Usually, Fridays were the days you went live, but apparently things were different tonight.

[9 MINUTES AGO] SWEETHEART666 said:

no live tonight, babes. vv special video coming tomorrow <3.

Yeah, he was completely and utterly fucked.

[ :: JOINING... the valley ::]

Jungkook doesn’t know how to feel.

He doesn’t even know what to expect. It’s finally Saturday, well Saturday morning and Jungkook finds himself lying in his bed, staring blankly at his ceiling. He’s already dreading the day, knowing that all that would be on his mind today would be you, and your stupid, vague words with your stupid smirk and, fuck, let’s just be real for a second; Jungkook has never been more mortified in his twenty-three years of living. Though if anyone were to ask, he’d say he’s doing fucking peachy, like the liar he is.

He hasn’t seen you since yesterday when you almost gave him a stroke from those borderline seductive words of yours. Fuck, a “show”? What else could you possibly mean? Did you know that he watched your videos? For Jungkook’s sake, he prays to whoever is up there that that’s all you know. The walls of the apartments are thin, thin enough for Jungkook to hear you moaning every time you film, and definitely flimsy enough for you to catch the sound of your name tumbling from his lips almost every goddamn time he comes. But, god, does he really wish he knew how you felt about everything. Instead of leaving him in the dark, he wished you would have at least told him you weren't angry at him for watching your videos in secret.

Oh, how things have taken a turn.

Something Jungkook is great at is pushing away his feelings. Which, in hindsight, has definitely never ever gone even remotely in his favor. Does that stop him from burying it all down? No. But it definitely has taught him ways to distract himself from anything and everything. And one of his favorite distractions is working out. In the gym located in the lower level of his apartment complex, he’s able to filter out the world, his thoughts, and throw all the shit he’s pushed down onto the treadmill. He focuses on the loud drumming of his playlist, pressing down on the arrow button until he’s completely drenched in sweat, panting from the thirty-minute sprint. Then it's weight lifting, which isn't as distracting as he’d like it to be, but if he turns his music up louder, he can't hear the way his brain is screaming at him to just! make! sense! of! his! feelings!

But it only lasts a short hour and a half during the workout. Now, all Jungkook can focus on is the way he hasn't ridden this elevator with you in what seems like forever, and how much he misses talking to you, even if it's just as nj_94. He wonders if maybe he’ll catch sight of you walking back from doing your laundry like he always does when he comes back from his Saturday workouts. Much to his dismay, there’s no sight of you when the elevator reaches your shared floor. His shoulders deflate, and he walks with his head down, feeling completely pathetic.

It’s only when he’s a few feet away from your apartment entrance that he spots the unfamiliar man leaning against your door. He’s poised, aura oozing with confidence and nonchalance. Jungkook slows his walking. Who the hell was he?

The man in question turns his head slightly, and consequently makes direct eye contact with Jungkook. Jungkook feels his eyes widen at how attractive this man was. But, honestly, he would be more surprised if he saw you with someone who looked any less than a fucking god amongst mortals. The man looks Jungkook up and down, plump lips shifting into a smirk before he tilts his head. Jungkook tenses, throwing him a quick nod of the head. His smile widens before the door to your apartment opens, and he walks in, disappearing as quickly as the door shuts. 

Great, the last chance he had to see you before tonight was gone. No questions answered, but it was fine. Everything was fine. All he had to do was wait a bit more. Jungkook glances at his watch, sighing loudly before inputting the code, rather harshly, to his apartment.

Only five more hours.

Five minutes.

Jungkook has lost count of how many times he’s refreshed your profile page. He probably looks as crazy as he feels waiting for the clock to hit eleven. He doesn't know what he’s feeling. Excited? Unnerved? Terrified? Jungkook's willing to bet it might be all three.

The minutes seem to go agonizingly slow as if taunting him. The ticking of the clock above his bed threatens to send him into overdrive. He has half a mind to rip it from the nail on the wall and throw it across the room. Even the soft rain hitting his bedroom window makes him want to scream. But he knows every jumbled thought crossing his mind is just an attempt to distract him from the absolute fear he’s feeling right now.

Then finally, finally, after the umpteenth time Jungkook has refreshed the page, right when he feels he's about to implode and have his insides turn into mush, it appears. Right as the shorthand hits eleven.

● [LIVE!] ur fav boy on his knees... w/ a special surprise <3

by Sweetheart666

2,039 viewing now

Jungkook swears he feels his heart stop beating, and he almost doesn't click on the live, he almost shuts his laptop and walks to the corner of his bedroom to rethink his actions in shame.

Almost.

The sight is familiar, one of your dimly-lit bedroom and a king-sized bed freshly made with black satin sheets. It’s a view Jungkook has grown all too accustomed to, after spending countless late nights watching you come undone under the same light. But tonight, everything has him on edge. Even the sensual music playing quietly in the background makes his heart rate increase. 

It takes another minute before you appear in frame, wearing that damned smirk on your face again. But now there’s a flash of something he can’t seem to name, that flickers in your eyes. Jungkook must either be losing his mind, or the camera was playing tricks. You greet everyone in that same sweet voice of yours, as you always do in every video. You wait a few more moments for more viewers to join, toying with the heart that hangs on the chain wrapped around your neck. Everything seemed normal so far, and for a split second, Jungkook is able to breathe again. But before his thoughts could get any further, he comes into the frame.

“Everyone, this is Minnie. You might know him as Jimin, or mincams. He’s the first person I’ve ever brought on my channel, so please be nice to him...”

The same guy that had been standing outside of your apartment door. Jungkook should’ve connected the dots. It was all right in front of his fucking eyes, yet he was too in his feelings to even realize it. This was your ‘special surprise’. 

Jimin’s face is eerily familiar, and Jungkook realizes that it’s not from the fleeting hallway interaction. No, he’s definitely seen him on the trending page of Cybersex multiple times. He doesn’t know how he didn’t recognize him at first, having clicked on his videos out of curiosity before. He briefly wonders how Jimin, the ever dominating and controlling Cyberboy, was so willing to get on his knees for you. Then again, Jungkook knew better than to doubt your authority over anyone. 

“...unless, of course, he misbehaves.”

Jungkook almost chokes on his spit, mind failing to grasp the last few words that had tumbled from your mouth. Had he heard you right? Judging by the way Jimin’s eyes light up, he’s gonna take a wild guess and say that yes, this was going exactly where Jungkook thought it was. He looks down at his pants. Jungkook was definitely more excited than terrified now.

You stand from your spot on the floor, but Jimin stays kneeled right where he is, eyes following your movement behind the camera. Jungkook glances at the growing number of viewers, half probably from Jimin’s own audience. Just one look at the comments, he notes that this is definitely something his fans had been waiting for. 

“Sit on the bed. Strip down to your underwear.”

Even though he knows your words aren’t directed at him, Jungkook’s dick has a mind of its own. Sure, he’s watched the way you dominate during your solo shows, but seeing you order about another man, fuck, does it do things to Jungkook.

He watches as Jimin obeys immediately, sitting on the edge of the bed and almost ripping his shirt in his haste to please you. You walk into frame again, holding a piece of fabric in one hand. You trace your fingers over the slope of his nose, past his lips, and down the length of his neck. “Such a pretty face. Shame I have to cover it...” you pout, though your eyes are shining with mischief. Your hands bring the silk scarf around his eyes, tying it behind his head. 

Jungkook puts his hand over his growing bulge as you guide Jimin further back onto your bed. You turn him to the side, both of your bodies perfectly lining up with the camera. Fuck, is it driving Jungkook absolutely wild knowing that this was all happening just on the other side of the wall behind him. God, the things he’d do to be in Jimin’s place. Or just be there in person.

You’re on his lap now, nipping at his neck as Jimin’s soft moans filter through the speakers of his computer. Your hands, however, are kept at your side, only making Jimin’s pleas for your touch more desperate. Yet, you give into none of it. Pulling away from him, but not without another whine from the blinded man, you grin. “So whiny.” 

Jungkook pauses his clothed palming, waiting with bated breath as you go behind the camera once again. The sight of Jimin’s flushed cheeks and harsh breathing makes his dick harden impossibly more. You appear in frame, this time with an unfamiliar object in your hand. Your hand goes to Jimin’s chest, and he jumps from surprise, then immediately after whines at your soft caresses. Once his nipple stiffens, your other hand clamps the pink clip onto it, prompting a gasp from both Jimin and Jungkook.

Jungkook watches as you adjust the tightness while struggling to pull down his pants laying down. Jimin looks even more flustered than before, hands digging into the flesh of his thighs. “Does it feel okay?” he hears you whisper, and Jimin nods eagerly. You chuckle, “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” Jimin’s voice is strangled, and Jungkook can see the painful swell of his cock outline through the camera lens. “It’s perfect.” 

“Good.” you pat his cheek before pushing him to lie down on his back. Another piece of fabric comes to wrap around Jimin’s wrists, placing them above his head. You climb over his body, opting to lay over his thighs, just below his prominent erection. “Tell me, baby,” Jungkook’s eyes catch the matching pink remote in your hand and the smirk on your face. Your thumb presses down on the button, and the sudden sounds of buzzing mixed with Jimin whining sets Jungkook’s skin ablaze. “Is it ok if I use you for tonight?”

“F-fuck, y-yes, p-please use me, sweetheart.” 

Jungkook has his hand on his shaft, leisurely stroking as he watches you press the button once again. The humming stops, but Jimin is left gasping, back arching off the sheets. The sight spurs Jungkook further, and he brings his own hand to his erect nipples, pinching hard. You move to straddle Jimin’s thigh before lifting the other clamp to his mouth. “Open up, baby.”

Jimin quickly complies, opening his mouth wide enough for your index finger and thumb to enter. His lips wrap snugly around them, sucking until you tap his cheek. Your fingers and the clamp emerge drenched in his spit, but Jungkook only gets a glance before you’re shoving them beneath your thin mesh slip-on. The clamps come to life once again, you and Jimin releasing simultaneous moans of ecstasy. 

There’s a thin sheen of sweat building on Jungkook’s skin as he pumps himself harder, whining at the sight. God, he’s never wanted to be beneath you as much as he wants to now. He watches as you press the remote once again, giggling quietly at Jimin’s complaining. Jungkook stops his stroking, despite how much he wants to continue, realizing he’d probably make himself come unintentionally. And he could tell you were just getting started.

Your hand trails down the expanse of his chest, trailing down his toned stomach before stopping right above the place Jimin wants you the most. Your touches are playful, teasing as you use your other hand to reattach the wet clip on Jimin’s bare nipple. Jimin gasps when you press your hand down on his erection. “Nngh, sweetheart. It hurts.” he pouts, and Jungkook is almost sure if he wasn’t blindfolded, he’d be giving you puppy eyes. 

But you’re inexorable.

“Awww, do you want me to make it better, baby?” you’re still talking to Jimin, but you look straight at the camera, and at Jungkook, as you say it, lashes fluttering.

Now that makes Jungkook cease his motions. Even in his hunger-ridden mind, the words feel strangely familiar, like he’s heard them before, but in a different situation. Jungkook can’t seem to remember, but the thought disappears as quickly as it came. You’ve left Jimin alone on the bed again, standing beside as you slowly strip yourself of your underwear. Hearts blow up the screen as you smirk at the camera. “Everyone’s so needy today, huh?”

You crawl up next to Jimin, tracing your fingers lightly over his toned chest. “You could probably come from these alone.” Jimin voices his pleading objections, desperate to feel your hands elsewhere, but you leave his side once again, walking closer to the camera. “Hmm, let’s ask your fans what they think.”

There’s no need to even glance at the video chat, because your laugh says it all. “Looks like they want you like this, Minnie.” He arches his back of the bed, attempting to plead with you for more stimulation. “Nnngh, please, sweetheart.” Yet you only giggle quietly. Your hand reaches for the remote off to the side before you turn the clamps on once again. Jimin’s breathy moans are loud, loud enough to filter through your shared wall, and Jungkook gulps. 

Leaving Jimin alone on the bed once again, you emerge with a silver bowl in your hand. You crawl onto his thighs again, clicking the button and halting Jimin’s pleasure. Your fingers pick up an ice cube before tracing it down his chest. Jimin shivers at the coolness, but otherwise stays quiet, waiting for your next move. When you reach the band of his boxers, you leave the ice cube to melt on his abs before pulling them down and letting his cock hit his stomach. Jimin gasps at the cold wetness, tied hands digging into the mattress above his head. “Is that better, Minnie?” he only nods in response, and this time it’s enough for you. 

Jungkook glances at the mess on his lap, a mix of his precum and spit lathered all over his shaft and hand. He looks back at his screen, and he sees you’ve crawled over his chest, nearing his face. Your hand goes to cradle his jaw, using your thumb to trace his bottom lip. “Tell me, Minnie, is this mouth only good for whining and complaining?” Jimin shakes his head fervently, tongue coming out to lick at your thumb. “Hmm, mind if I test it for myself then?”

Jimin swallows, trying to find his voice. “Please.”

You push his head back onto the bed, placing your knees on either side of his head. Another ice cube finds its way to your hand, and you bring it to Jimin’s lips. “Open, Minnie.” he complies, sucking the ice into his mouth. His mouth is left agape, and you smile, pleased. “Good boy.” 

You slowly sink down, just enough for Jimin to start licking and sucking your heat. You gasp, holding your breath before letting out a small whimper. The hand that’s not steadying you holds the remote, pressing down on the button once again. Jimin groans into your clit. Jungkook watches the way your back arches with pleasure as his hand speeds up on his dick. He imagines being the one underneath you, eating you out like he’s wanted to for so long. Jungkook tries to be quiet, he truly does, but, fuck, just the vision of you spread out above him, makes him moan out loud.

“C’mon, Minnie, louder. Don’t you want everyone to know how good I’m making you feel?” Jungkook doesn’t realize how loud Jimin is until he hears his moans clearer through the wall than his computer speaker. Jungkook swallows down his whines as best he can, but when he sees the way your toes curl from Jimin’s unrelenting mouth, he can’t help it anymore. He’s sure the noises falling from his mouth can be heard as clearly as Jimin’s, yet he can’t find it in himself to care. Not when he’s so close to his own release.

Your whimpers only spur Jungkook further, and he’s too lost in the way you smirk straight at the camera to worry about his volume anymore. He groans, on the edge of ecstasy when your voice sounds through his clouded mind. “C’mon, baby boy, I know you can do it.” White flashes behind his eyelids, and he comes in spurts of white all over his stomach. Jungkook doesn’t notice the way all light in his room has suddenly shut off, leaving him with only the glow of his dying computer to luminate him. 

When Jungkook finally opens his eyes, there’s nothing but darkness, the harsh sound of rain splattering against his window and the howling noise of the wind mixing with his harsh breathing. Even Jimin’s whines and the humming of his laptop has stopped. The post orgasm haze clouding in his mind the only indication that whatever just happened was actually real.

CLICK!

[ENDED] ur fav boy on his knees w/ special surprise <3

by Sweetheart666

687,982 viewers / 2,298,836 hearts

#16 on trending 

“Fuck.” he mutters, finally grasping the fact that the power had gone out. But, it’s when Jungkook’s eyes adjust to the darkness, that it comes back to him. Something you said that sounded too familiar, and this time he knows it’s not his imagination. 

“Awww, do you want me to make it better, baby?”

It becomes clearer as his breath evens out.

“Awww, do you want me to make it better?”

You know.

© dewykth. all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, translate or modify.

[fromiftowhen]

The Rookie: 3x09 Amber Thoughts/Spoilers

I have… a LOT of thoughts about this episode. Unsurprisingly, the majority of them are Chenford related, but I had a LOT of West and Lopez feels too, so. Here we go. I started to try to get my feelings out, but it just became me copying quotes that I either laughed or had other feelings about, so…

“Grey’s busy, and Smitty’s getting a back tattoo.”

“That’s --”

“Don’t ask.

-- When I say I laughed out loud. Jackson and Smitty’s relationship is one of the best callbacks this show does, and every mention of that ridiculous man is hilarious.

“But it’s super important she doesn’t get shot today.”

“No promises. You ride with me, you ride the rollercoaster.”

-- Nyla Harper is my favorite person. She was excellent in this episode, from the very beginning to the sweet moment at the end (that ending scene did NOT need to be about Nolan, this should have been solely focused on Lucy and Jackson and what they accomplished today, but I can’t say I’m surprised. But Harper made it better.)

Tim tossing the list out the window immediately.

“You know, littering is a $250 fine.”

“Worth it.”

Lucy pulling a backup list right out. They know each other SO well.

-- HILARIOUS. Although I’ll admit my guard was up the moment she pulled that list out and used the word “trickery.” It worked out differently than I thought it would, but… well. We’ll get to that.

“I knew my TO would be important to my career. But I don’t know. I didn’t realize how important you’d be to my life.”

-- I should have been more prepared for the Lopez and West feelings today. Their relationship probably started out the rockiest of all the TO/rookie pairings, and maybe rightfully so… but it’s become the least complicated, the closest to friendship the fastest, and their bond is just really something. Jackson was right - a LOT has happened in their 13 months together (yes, show, I remember exactly how long it’s been -- do you?) and they’ve both grown and changed in such wonderful ways. Angela looked sentimental the whole episode (while still being her badass, hilarious self) and West looked SO relaxed, it was such a lovely bookend to their first days together.

“I wish someone taught me how to be in this one.”

“Oh, so we are in a relationship.”

-- All the references to a relationship were good, if not entirely baity. But Tim’s delivery of that line was amazing and made me laugh out loud. He sounds so long-suffering and very much like an exasperated husband, and it really pinpointed one of the ways they interact that just WORKS so well. It just feels natural, and Eric Winter’s delivery was great.

“Tell me the truth -- Am I gonna poop myself?”

-- This entire conversation was so randomly hilarious (but added levity they all clearly needed then). Harper and Lopez are hilarious together and I truly wish the show gave us more of that.

“Don’t worry -- I will personally stand watch over your kid until you leave the hospital.”

-- Jackson West. I love you.

“I really hope our last shift together doesn’t end with that.”

“Yeah, me too.”

-- EMOTIONS.

Tim distracting her with her list. The man KNOWS her. And him acknowledging that she’s been to hell and back. Again, I say -- EMOTIONS. It was such a good callback to him knowing she needs to focus on work and order and process to remain calm in some situations.

“One look from you could send me into a tailspin.” And one day, it will again -- in an entirely different way, I am SURE. The way they both knew she was referring to Plain Clothes Day was great.

“I dunno. Smitty is surprisingly maternal.”

“That is the most horrifying idea I’ve ever heard, and I want it to be a reality show so bad.”

“Right? I would watch the hell out of that.”

-- Lowkey this was the most hilarious exchange of the night. I would also watch the hell out of that reality show. All these little moments made me miss Lopez and West together so much. Their scene at the end of the episode was lovely. All the times he thanked her. Please still let them interact often. The show NEEDS it.

“We did it.”

“No. You did it.” THE MOST TIM BRADFORD THING I’VE EVER HEARD.

“Office Chen impressed me with every decision she made today. I will miss riding with her.”

The callback to the evaluation in Plain Clothes Day. My heart skipped a beat, honestly. The way that Tim was looking at her in this scene while she read the note was… it was a lot, and apparently too much for me to process currently because that’s the most intelligible thing I’ve got to say about it.

“You don’t let anyone ever tell you you can’t do something. Not even me.”

-- WHILE HE HELD THE HANDSHAKE. This one line tells you all you need to know about Tim Bradford and his RELATIONSHIP with Lucy Chen, honestly. He knows she’s “as tough as they come” and has “been to hell and back” and he knows, even if it scares him, even if it gives him flashbacks to Isabel, that she can do it.

Her gift to him was such a nice callback. For a show that doesn’t seem to track or care about its actual timeline, they’ve done a wonderful job with callbacks especially this season, and especially Tim and Lucy related ones. All the Caleb/Rosalind stuff. All Isabel mentions. Multiple mentions of Plain Clothes Day and their first day riding together, etc.

Every. Single. Time. He has called her Lucy this season, I have had to compose myself, none more than in this episode. I do kind of wish they’d waited until that last moment to have him call her Lucy (to her face, we all know I don’t think the phone call scene from season one, although one of their very best moments, counts)... it might have felt slightly more impactful (although the moment in the season premiere was great in its own way.)

Honestly, it was a little weird for me watching the show tackle their final moments as TO/rookie because I’ve written so many versions of that myself? (And look, I’m not gonna lie, their version gave me feelings, but I liked mine better). I wish that truly lovely garage scene hadn’t come on the heels of that “confession” scene, but it did help make up for it.

You might have noticed that I specifically skipped over that “confession” scene in the shop. As soon as he started talking about lying and UC work, I said “ugh” and then immediately wrote the scene in my head -- down to her laugh, it was that predictable once you got the gist. And I’m going to be honest -- if I had written it, I would have deleted it.

I KNEW going in -- and I think most people will agree -- that this was not going to be a true confession. That we weren’t going to get a Chenford love confession tonight (and please, can we discuss that ‘canon’ and ‘endgame’ are not interchangeable for just a sec.) But the way it happened just felt SUPER ship baity, and using it in the promo even more so. I just felt super pandered to in a ridiculous way that didn’t leave me with the most pleasant feelings about the writers… the garage scene at the end definitely helped, but overall the confession scene left a sour taste.

The thing is -- the things she said? How he saved her? How the reason he’s protective of her is that he might have feelings too? Those are all valid things! And things that, at least in fic, I believe. But watching that scene, me, someone who can read something shippy in the TINIEST glance? I didn’t FEEL those things. I wasn’t nodding along like “yep, yep, that’s all true” -- there wasn’t a moment during that scene where they looked at each other and I thought “yes, this is hitting too close to home for one of them.” Maybe that’s just me. I don’t know.

And I don’t know if that’s because I was too in my feelings about being badly pandered to, or if it just wasn’t there, or what. But… just overall I’m left with a feeling that it was just an entirely unnecessary scene that probably didn’t serve the ship well, just judging by some reactions I’ve seen.

Those feelings though? The ones I wanted to feel in that confession scene? I FELT THOSE, every single one of them, in the parking garage scene at the end.

Every look was perfect. Every pause, the handshake (a hug would have truly saved the confession mess, let's be honest, but can't be picky), the way he looked at her as she read, THAT is the writers do SO perfectly right for Tim and Lucy (and I know the majority of that credit goes to Eric and Melissa, because the moments that are the most impactful are the looks that just can't be entirely scripted.)

Do I still ship them with every fiber of my being? Yes, and nothing the writers do or don’t do will change that. Will I still (eventually again) write a million words about them falling in love how I think they should? Yes. Do I need the show to stick to moments like in the parking garage -- real, honest moments between them? YES. That is what the show gets right about their relationship. If they can just stick to those moments -- and somehow continue them and make them believable even if they’re no longer riding together -- I’ll be happy.

Am I worried about their interactions now that they’re no longer riding together? Yes. Their chemistry is honestly the best thing on this show. Giving less screen time to Lopez and West together has been rough -- not only on the relationships aspect that so much drives the show but on the timing/pacing as well -- and I worry that their best characters/best ship not sharing as much screen time will not help either of these issues.

Maybe they’ll surprise me. I hope -- I think -- they will.

(Random, but things I still need from this season: A Rachel mention? Don't get me wrong, if they want to forget her, I'm cool... but it feels like (even a fake love) confession should have been the right time to be like "I know this is awkward, you're dating my friend..." Come on, show. I don't care about her, but you tried HARD to sell us on her last season, so at least give her a two second mention to update us on what is actually going on. The Lopez-Evers wedding. (Do I think it'll be THE Chenford event most people are hoping for? No. But I'm ready to be proven wrong.) A continuation on Harper's love life. UPDATE ME on my girl.)

[blossom-hwa]

Bloom, Bloom, Pow! |1| - CHANGMIN

Happy Valentine’s Day!!!! Please enjoy the first half of nearly 17k of pining for the boy I would be pining for if he was in my life <3 

Special thanks to @wingkkun​ for helping me come up with several parts of this story!! I don’t know how you deal with me, Kai, but I really appreciate it <3

(Suggested playlist: Bloom Bloom, DDD, and Just U by The Boyz :D)

Pairing: Changmin x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, angst if you squint, university!au

Triggers: cursing, alcohol

Word Count: 9.4k

Dancing with you, Changmin feels like flowers are blooming in his heart.

Part 1 | Part 2

TBZ Masterlist | Interwoven

~ you

It starts like this.

Ji Changmin is notorious for his dancing, not because he’s bad at it (he’s arguably one of the best students in the dance department), but for his habit of moonwalking through the university halls. Headphones stuck in his ears, phone in hand, he twists and twirls around campus, eyes closed in concentration or fixed on some faraway point in space, lost in the realm of his music.

And the strangest thing is, he never bumps into a single person.

Oh, he might brush against an arm or two. His fingertips might graze a shoulder with a butterfly’s touch, his feet just barely skimming over another’s shoes. But crashing into someone? Knocking into a wall? Never.

It’s fun to see, really, when you cross paths with him or when he shows up on the school Snapchat story. Even though you only know Changmin by name (Kevin talks to him, but you haven’t had the pleasure), there’s something endlessly graceful and fascinating about the way he moves, slipping through the crowded halls with the cheerful air of someone who doesn’t care about what other people around them think.

It starts with an impulse, just something to lighten up your mood. You’re walking to one of your least favorite classes (look, writing might be fun, but certainly not the way your professor teaches it) when Changmin’s bright orange mop of hair appears ahead. A slight smile creeps up your face as he comes closer, an unstoppable force parting the crowded sea of students.

An idea pops into your mind.

Trip him up.

Briefly, you question yourself. Why?

Like that meme, your brain supplies a concise answer. You gotta.

You’re grinning, moving before your mind can even process what your body has decided to do. Stepping awkwardly around a couple of other students, you place yourself right in Changmin’s path.

He twists.

You turn.

He lurches.

You step.

He flashes you a confused look, his usual faraway gaze replaced with something bemused and even slightly annoyed. For a second, you feel a flash of uncertainty – what if he doesn’t see this as the joke you mean it to be? After all, you don’t even know each other. How is he going to take this?

But he must see the teasing smile on your face and the glint in your gaze because his eyes sparkle, lips stretching wide into the brightest grin you’ve ever seen him wear. His moves take on an exaggerated cadence, arms stretching widely, legs smoothly twisting around your much less graceful feet as he twirls, just avoiding your flailing hands jokingly trying to stop him.

Changmin wins, of course. Your mediocre attempts at obstruction are nothing against his skill. As he slips away, he flashes you a smirk of farewell, leaving you with only the memory of a bright smile, graceful limbs, and an awkward dance.

You expect it to be a one-time thing. It’s so stupid when you think about it later – what the hell possessed you to do that, anyway? You’re cringing just thinking about it – so there’s no way, you tell yourself, no way that Changmin would bother to acknowledge your presence again. When you walk down the same hall a few days later and see a bright orange head of hair artfully bobbing in your direction, you just smile a bit at the residual memories.

But Changmin catches your eye, his gaze brightening when it meets yours. As the curve of his lips widens, one graceful finger twitches slightly in a tiny gesture – get over here. His eyes glint – try me.

A grin spreads across your face as you step closer. Why not?

And so, again, you dance.

. . . . .

~ changmin

Changmin doesn’t really know what makes you so special. He doesn’t know why he indulges your twists and turns, weaving in and out of your awkwardly stepping feet on the way to class. He doesn’t know why he didn’t just give you a weird look the first day you stepped into his path, avoided you as best he could and walked away.

But that would’ve erased the smile on your face, he reasons, thinking back to the memories. It would’ve extinguished the sparkle in your eye, muted the brightness of your expression into something far less brilliant. And despite the fact that Changmin barely knows who you are, has only a vague recollection of your name from when someone once called to you down the hall, in that moment, he subconsciously knew that there was nothing he would willingly do to dim your sparkle. Not a sparkle of beauty, necessarily, or of mere physical loveliness. No, in your smile, there’s something deeper, something brilliantly incandescent that strikes right into Changmin’s heart.

Other people think it’s stupid. Younghoon, for example, wonders if he’s gone absolutely nuts the first time he witnesses the dance (well, Changmin calls it a dance – Younghoon says it looks more like a cult ritual). “What the fuck was that?” he asks after you walk off, raising an extremely confused eyebrow.

Changmin just shrugs, watching your figure disappear down the hall before slipping back into his usual moonwalk. “I don’t know,” he replies honestly. “We just do it.”

“You’re so weird,” Younghoon mutters, shaking his head slightly. “Do you even know their name?”

Again, he shrugs. “Y/N, I think?”

Younghoon chokes. “You think?”

If Changmin thinks about it, it is kind of stupid. You stepped into his path in a crowded hallway and proceeded to try and trip him up, all while wearing a huge grin on your face (that Changmin thinks is beautiful, but he won’t dig into that just yet). Changmin, instead of trying to get away, decided to indulge your fun. You’ve never exchanged a single spoken word – he isn’t even sure you know his name, though he can’t really say anything because he isn’t sure he knows yours – and you’ve rarely interacted, even nonverbally, beyond a few smiles and the little confrontation that happens every Monday and Wednesday at approximately two-ten in the afternoon when the two of you walk down the same hall.

But it doesn’t feel stupid, not in the moment. It feels right, somehow, grinning as widely as his lips will allow while you try to step all over his toes. You never manage to trip him, not in those few seconds of dance, but Changmin appreciates the effort and laughs along with you, exaggerating his movements and pretending to almost fall, just to see the smile on your face grow wider.

So the stares don’t matter, not to Changmin. He can stomach the strange glances, the hidden smirks, the subtly raised phones trying to catch the scene for the school Snapchat story (anyway, if it bothers him enough, he can terrify Jaehyun into deleting it). He can shrug off Younghoon standing like a silent tree nearby, stuffing his face with bread and praying no one associates him with his squirrelly best friend, because seeing your brilliant smiles and hearing your stifled laughs are more than enough to get him through the rest of the day.

“You never smile that widely around me,” Younghoon remarks one day, “and I’m your best friend.”

Changmin just shrugs as he flashes you one last grin over the sea of students in the hall, turning back to face his friend. “Well,” he says, purposely trying to be infuriating, “there’s a reason for that.”

Younghoon whines, of course, pouting his lips in the way that wins him so many admirers around the school, but Changmin ignores it in favor of thinking about your smile, your laugh, the way your eyes sparkle and your limbs fly in your attempts to throw him off his balance.

Yes, he thinks, there’s a reason.

The reason is that your smile is more beautiful than anything he’s ever seen.

. . . . .

~ eric

Eric considers himself pretty well-versed when it comes to feelings. He’s fallen in love a lot, even with people he often doesn’t even know too well. Something just always pulls him in – a particular smile, a mischievous glint of the eye, the way they tap their pencil against their chin when deep in thought. He falls easily, quickly, and a little too hard, and as a result, he can recognize the look in his own eyes (and in others’, too) when he’s fallen head over heels for someone lovely.

He doesn’t have too many problems shooting his shot, either, which is nice. Sunwoo’s told Eric several times that he’s jealous of the way he can walk up to someone so easily and go, “Hey, I want to get to know you a little better – mind if I take you on a date?” To Eric, though, it’s just part of the process. He gets nervous, no doubt, but more often than not, if he’s courteous, he’ll at least meet a new friend, even if the feelings don’t end up being reciprocated.

When Eric slams into you on his board one day – what the fuck were you doing, anyway? Trying to trip up that wide-eyed kid with the dimples? Though to be fair, he shouldn’t be skateboarding in the halls – the first thing he notices is your pretty smile, the embarrassed grin you give him as he apologizes profusely, extending a hand to help you up. His heart thumps once.

True to himself, Eric’s ready to drop a flirty pickup line, make you laugh a little, and ask if he can get you a coffee or something to make up for the trouble. The words are forming on his lips, just about to burst from his throat when he feels a laser gaze glaring holes into his back.

Against his better judgement, Eric looks back slightly. The doe-eyed boy you were, what – interacting with? Dancing with? He needs to go over that scene in his head again – is staring back with so much concentration it looks like he wants to tear out Eric’s entire soul.

You drop Eric’s hand and he looks back, startled by the sudden lack of touch. “Don’t worry, really – I’m not hurt. Thanks for helping me up,” you say.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Your voice.

If Eric’s heart wasn’t already fluttering over your smile, it’s certainly fluttering now over your voice. God, it makes Eric want to just be your friend, at the very least. There’s a perfect mixture of warmth, gentility, and kindness in your tone, sprinkled with something so very sweet that soothes his ears.

Hell.

But by contrast, your smile is distant, like you’re thinking of something beyond the moment. Eric takes the current brief silence to look where your eyes flit off to, trying to see who you’re fixated on.

The doe-eyed boy is walking away, shifting gracefully through the group of students currently converging on the path. Your gaze follows his disappearing figure, something longing and endlessly lovely in your expression.

Ah, Eric realizes, heart sinking slightly. You’re already in love.

The memory of a gaze glaring holes into his soul briefly flashes in his mind, causing Eric’s slightly dampened smile to curl into a light smirk. 

From the looks of it, the doe-eyed boy seems to be in love with you too.

Eric looks at you again. “I’m really sorry about that,” he says honestly. “I definitely shouldn’t have been skating in the hall, but I’m glad you aren’t hurt. I hope I haven’t made you late to class?”

You shake your head, smile now focused. You’ve returned to the present. “You’re good,” you reply, briefly checking your phone. “I’ve still got a few minutes.”

“Well, just the same, if you ever want payback in some form or another, just ask around for Eric Sohn.” Picking up his board, Eric flashes you a smile, wishing slightly that your longing gaze was fixed on him, not the dimpled boy who’s long since disappeared. “I can buy you a coffee or something to make up for it.”

“Might take you up on that one of these days,” you grin. “I’m Y/N. Wanna exchange numbers so I can leech that coffee off of you?”

Heart thumping wildly, fingers tapping quickly, Eric enters his number into your phone, saving himself as Eric Sohn 💙. He hopes you don’t mind the emoji.

“Blue heart?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you take the phone back. “Not a red one?”

Can’t exactly do that when it’s clear you’re in love, he thinks, though he doesn’t say that out loud. “Nah.” He shrugs. “Figured that’d be too much. Need to get to know you a bit before I do anything more, right?”

A sweet, soft smile spreads across your lips, and Eric has to fight hard not to melt at it. “I appreciate that, Eric,” you say, pocketing your phone. The way you say his name blooms in Eric’s ears. “See you later, maybe?”

Eric knows he probably shouldn’t make judgements so quickly, but it’s hard not to believe in your sweetness with your kind voice and gentle smile. You deserve love, he decides in that moment, with the doe-eyed, dimpled boy who clearly loves you back.

Mentally, he puts a stamp of approval on the mission formulating in his brain as he nods. “See you,” he says, grinning.

Even if he isn’t the one you’ll fall in love with, he can at least help a new friend find their happiness.

. . .

~ kevin

Kevin thinks there’s a special place in hell for lovebirds who clearly like each other but won’t even consider the notion of actually talking and maybe going on a god damn date.

And there’s an extra-special little island in that ocean of fire for such lovebirds who have never spoken a single word to each other in their lives and have only communicated through stupid smiles and mushy eyes and worst of all, motherfucking mating dances.

Yes, that’s what he calls your tiptoe-tap dance-whatever-the-fuck-they-are dances with Changmin. You hit him the first time he said it out loud, but what else can he call it? There’s no other term that fits the situation nearly as well. It’s weird and strange like most mating dances are, and most importantly, the two of you are head over heels in love.

“We’re not in love!” you snap when Kevin brings it up. “How can we be in love if we haven’t even spoken once?”

Kevin nearly spits out his drink.

“You’re telling me,” he enunciates slowly once he’s recovered, “that you have never spoken to this guy, the same guy you were worrying about to me yesterday because you didn’t see him in the hall on schedule, not even once?”

When you nod yes, scowling in embarrassment, Kevin legitimately faceplants into the table. He stays there for several whole minutes, trying to digest the situation and the sheer idiocy of two of his closest friends.

Doesn’t matter. You’re clearly in love, or at least have a very hopeless, incurable crush on Ji Changmin. And if Changmin’s face is anything to go by, he’s head over heels for you too – Kevin’s never seen his friend with that big of a smile on his face or that sparkly of a look in his eyes.

He wants to vomit just thinking of it.

Okay, fine, so maybe some of this abhorrent disgust is due to the fact that Kevin is single and not exactly ready to mingle after several disastrous blind dates. Maybe some of his annoyance at your mating dances is unfounded. But in his defense, the two of you are stupid as fuck.

He’s in the middle of complaining about this mating dance phenomenon to his freshman friend, Eric Sohn, when Eric puts out a hand. “Wait, stop,” he says, halting Kevin mid-complaint. “Are you talking about Y/N and that… that guy, with, like, really round eyes and a dimple?”

Kevin’s eyes narrow. “How do you know them?”

“Well, uh, I accidentally crashed into Y/N on my board while they were doing…” Eric helplessly waves his arms around.

“The mating dance,” Kevin supplies.

“That’s a horrible name, Kevin.”

“It’s the closest thing that explains it.”

“Well, whatever.” Eric cringes. “I gave Y/N my number in case they wanted me to like, buy a coffee or something in exchange for nearly committing a murder. So that’s how I know them. Not sure of the other guy’s name, though.”

Kevin sighs. “Ji Changmin.”

“THAT’S CHANGMIN?”

“Shut up!” Kevin snaps. “Just let the whole dorm hear your screaming, won’t you?”

“Sorry,” Eric snips back, though more quietly this time. “But you all talk about how he’s scary as shit and always dancing? He wasn’t dancing when he walked off, and he looks like… I don’t know, a child? I thought he was a freshman.”

“Wait.” Kevin puts his hands on Eric’s shoulders. “You just said Changmin wasn’t dancing when he walked off?”

Eric slowly shakes his head. “I don’t think so?”

“Oh, my dude.” Kevin begins shaking Eric back and forth. Eric’s head wobbles on his neck for several seconds before he comes to his senses and knocks Kevin’s hands off of his shoulders, scowling. “Eric Sohn, you are fucked.”

“What?” Eric’s eyes immediately turn panicked. “Why?”

“Ji Changmin dances all the fucking time,” Kevin says, putting his head in his hands. How has Eric already fucked up this badly in his first year? Kevin’s a mess, but he can say he’s solidly a B-level mess, meaning he more or less has his social shit together, even if not his academia. “If he wasn’t dancing when he walked away, that means he was pissed off.”

A beat of silence. Then – “Would it help if I had a semi-sort-of plan to get him and Y/N together?”

Kevin’s head snaps up. So maybe Eric isn’t entirely clueless. “So you know they’re literally in love with each other?”

Eric rolls his eyes. “It’s so obvious,” he whines. “Why haven’t you even thought to play Cupid?”

“Because Y/N is stupid and won’t admit that they have feelings, and I haven’t talked to Changmin that much this semester because we have different classes,” Kevin groans. “They’re both so stupid.”

“Eh.” Eric gets a faraway look in his eyes. “It’s hard for a lot of people to realize they’re in love.”

Silence falls as Kevin tries to pin down the familiarly weird feeling his friend is exuding. Eric’s gaze stays faraway, fixed on some point in the metaphorical distance (he’s staring at a wall covered in tacky posters and random sketches – there’s no way he’s enamored with Kevin’s half-baked drawings of trees and scissors and shit).

He looks sad.

“Oh, Eric.” Kevin’s frustration falls away as he pulls the freshman into a hug. “You like Y/N, don’t you?”

Eric doesn’t even deny it, he’s so far past that. “It’s stupid, Kevin. I’ll get over it, I always do. It’s just a crush.”

Not for the first time in his life, Kevin wishes he had his friend’s maturity, even though he wouldn’t enjoy the root cause. Falling in love as easily as Eric does would be too hard for Kevin to deal with. “Eric Sohn, you are one of the most selfless people in the world,” he declares. “You don’t have to do this, you know? If it hurts, you don’t.”

“No, Y/N deserves love.” Eric puts his chin on Kevin’s shoulder. Kevin takes the opportunity to pat his head. “Changmin does, too, and I think they’ll find it together. God knows he was staring holes into my back while we were talking.”

Kevin thinks he’s going to melt. “You’re dumb as fuck,” he says fondly, laughing at Eric’s squawk of indignation, “but you’re sweet. Too sweet for your own good.”

“… Is that a compliment?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be.” Kevin pulls back from his friend. “Ready to play Cupid?”

Eric nods, sadness partially replaced with mischievous fire. Kevin will take that much for now. “Yeah!”

. . . . .

~ changmin

Changmin doesn’t expect to be punched in the gut when he’s going with Younghoon to get a stupid cup of coffee.

Okay, no one actually punches him. But it certainly feels that way when he sees you sitting with the skater boy kid who knocked into you the other day, talking at a table by the window.

Younghoon doesn’t notice at first, just goes up to the counter to order at the (overpriced) campus Starbucks. Changmin loiters nearby, waiting for Younghoon to get his drink and come over, all the while trying to not obviously stare at you and the other kid having an animated conversation just a few feet away.

“What’s with the pout?” Younghoon asks, trying unsuccessfully to scare Changmin with his sudden presence. His own lips turning down with his failed attempt, he follows Changmin’s gaze to the two students sitting by the windows.

“I’m not pouting,” Changmin says, pout deepening.

Younghoon nearly spills his coffee, he snorts so hard. “Sure,” he says. “I’ll just pretend you’re not moping over someone you’re head over heels for whose name you don’t even know.”

If Younghoon actually spills his coffee when Changmin elbows him in the ribs, no one can tell. The look he gives the taller boy is enough to silence him for the next half an hour, at least.

He tries to focus, he really does. Though the drinks are overpriced, Changmin won’t deny that the coffee-scented air of the Starbucks is pleasant. It’s mid-afternoon, a time when most students are in class, so it isn’t too loud, either. But despite all of this, Changmin can’t focus on psychology. His eyes keep drifting over to the table by the window, where your conversation still hasn’t ended.

“Ji Changmin.” Younghoon waves a hand in front of his face after his concentration wanes for the umpteenth time. “You came here to study.”

This time, Changmin doesn’t deny the pout that settles on his lips. “I know,” he says, genuinely upset now. He wants to focus and get this studying done, he really does, but he just can’t put his mind to it.

Younghoon sighs. “Why don’t you just try talking?” he asks, eyes flickering over to where you’re still chatting animatedly with the skater boy. God, it’s been at least half an hour – haven’t you finished your drink? Why aren’t you gone yet? Why are you still here, invisibly punching Changmin in the chest every time you smile at the skater kid?

The words slip out of Changmin’s mouth before he can stop them. “What if they’re dating?”

There’s a moment of silence. Then Changmin realizes just what he’s indirectly admitted to his best friend.

Fuck.

“Well, that’s the first step.” Younghoon reaches over and pats Changmin on his slumped head. “Admitting your feelings. Proud of you, Changmin.”

Scowling, he slaps the hand off his hair, ignoring Younghoon’s yelp of indignation. “Not funny,” he whines, putting his head back down. “What if they are?” God, he should’ve helped you up before that skater boy did, run over and given you a hand first. Now skater boy’s on a date with you and Changmin feels…

Oh, God.

He’s jealous.

Shame and embarrassment flood his face at the realization. This is gross, his mind wails. Why does he feel jealous over you, someone he’s never even spoken to? The only semblance of interest you’ve given him is your initiation of the sidewalk dance. And maybe your smile.

Changmin’s pout deepens impossibly further. Actually, you probably give your lovely smile to every person you meet. He isn’t special. In fact, he’s betting that the skater kid fell for your smile too, the smile that makes it feel like stars are raining around his feet.

“Hey, earth to Changmin?” Younghoon waves a hand in front of his face. “You good?”

“No,” he replies, burying his head in his textbook again. “Leave me alone to mope.”

Younghoon just snorts, pats his head, then goes quiet, presumably back to studying. Meanwhile, Changmin doesn’t even bother to make a pretense of looking at his book anymore. He just stares into darkness.

Feelings, he decides, fucking suck.

. . .

~ you

Eric, you come to find, is a really fun guy. He might be a little awkward, but he’s clearly got a warm heart, and with every second you spend with him, you find yourself feeling more and more comfortable in his presence. With him, an entire hour and a half pass in a flash before you check your phone and realize you have class in less than ten minutes.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, hastily putting your things together. “Time passed so quickly. I didn’t keep you from doing anything important, did I?”

He just waves a hand. “Don’t worry!” The bright smile that’s been gracing his face this entire time grows even wider. “I don’t have a lot on my plate at the moment. It was fun talking to you.”

“Me, too.” You push your chair in. “Let’s do this again sometime? I’ll buy my own coffee, though.”

Eric’s grin makes him look like a puppy. You have the irrational urge to pat his head and coo. “Of course! See you later, Y/N.”

“See you.” Waving once, you exit the café, ready to head off to class.

Just outside the building, though, something makes you linger. You feel weird, like someone’s staring. Quickly, you look back through the window of the Starbucks. Eric’s still there, talking to a tall boy in one corner, but he isn’t looking at you.

Your gaze shifts, and invisible heat floods your cheeks as Ji Changmin stares back from behind the glass, seated at a table at the far end of the café.

He’s wearing glasses today, you notice blankly. They’re round, frame his eyes perfectly, and make him look god damn adorable.

Your heart flutters.

For a moment, you just stand there, rooted in place. What do I do here? you think desperately. What are you supposed to do when you’ve never actually spoken to him, only exchanged greetings in the form of weird dance steps (if they can even be called that) and, well, smiles?

Oh. Smiles.

Those work, you guess.

Slowly, you curl the corners of your lips into what you hope is a grin. It grows wider as Changmin smiles back, eyes crinkling and teeth showing as he waves to you from inside the café.

Your mood, already lightened by your conversation with Eric, skyrockets impossibly as you wave back, mouth splitting into a grin that stretches from ear to ear.

God, since when did just seeing Ji Changmin make you feel this happy?

In a moment of heightened stupidity, you point up to your eyes, drawing circles with your fingers in a motion that you hope indicates glasses. Changmin points to the frames on his face, and you nod, hands forming two thumbs ups, which your unthinking brain hopes will convey the fact that you really like how he looks with them on.

It feels like it should be impossible for Changmin’s smile to get any wider, but it does. Through the window, you watch him clap a hand to his mouth shyly, shoulders shaking slightly as he presumably laughs. It makes you laugh, too, and you wave one more time before walking away.

Then what you did actually hits you, and like that first time you stepped in Changmin’s path, you put your face in your hands and cringe as hard as your body will allow.

You really did that, you scold yourself. You really made circles with your fingers and gave him fucking thumbs ups because you liked his glasses.

You’re a fucking moron.

. . .

~ eric

When Eric walks up to Changmin’s table to talk to his friend, he immediately reevaluates his entire opinion of the doe-eyed boy.

His face is buried in the textbook when Eric starts approaching (which, first of all, mood). However, when he gets closer, Changmin lifts his head out of the pages and fixes him with the deadliest, pointiest glare that Eric has ever faced in his life.

Eric now sees why Kevin calls Changmin scary as fuck. The stare he gave when Eric crashed into you was nothing compared to this.

His eyes feel like daggers slowly slicing into Eric’s skin.

“Um.” Eric stops a couple feet away from the table Changmin’s sharing with the friend he needs to talk to. The friend looks up curiously, and Eric seizes the chance. “Can I, uh, talk to you? For a second?” he asks, desperately hoping they can get away from Changmin’s glare as soon as possible. “Please?”

The friend blinks once, then nods. “Be back in a minute, Changmin,” he says, about to stand up.

“Why can’t you talk to him here?”

Oh, God. If Eric wasn’t ready for the whiplash that came with seeing Changmin’s soft features versus his sharp glare, he really wasn’t ready for the soft tones of his voice contrasting with the venom blended in. Everything about Changmin, at first glance, screams innocence and sweetness.

What the fuck goes on behind that exterior?

“Um,” Eric stalls, desperately trying to think of an excuse. “I –”

“Don’t be rude, Changmin,” the friend cuts through smoothly, standing up. Eric immediately feels dwarfed by this guy’s long legs, but he doesn’t care as much as he normally might because he’s so glad he’s getting rescued. “Let’s go.”

The Starbucks isn’t large, but Eric follows the friend to a far corner, away from the table. Once they’re there, he clears his throat. “Um –”

“Are you dating them?” the tall guy interrupts. “The one you were here with before?”

Once the question settles in, Eric starts shaking his head violently. “No, no, I’m not. No. I just – well, I slammed into Y/N on my board, so I offered to buy coffee for us sometime to make up for it?” He tries to smile. “Not dating.”

“Oh, thank God.” The friend rubs his forehead. “Changmin was going to have an aneurysm.”

Well, that confirms that his near-death at the eyes of Ji Changmin wasn’t in vain. Relief and sadness run through Eric’s brain at the confirmation that yes, Changmin is head over heels for you. “Yeah, uh, I was actually going to ask about that.” He swallows. “Are you and Changmin close friends?”

A curious look. “Yeah, you could say that. Why?”

“Well, I don’t know if you know Kevin Moon, but he’s sick of watching Y/N and Changmin pine over each other without bothering to make a move,” Eric rushes out. He can still feel Changmin’s gaze boring holes into his skin. “But Kevin doesn’t have classes with Changmin this semester and he definitely hates my guts, so…” He sighs. God, this is harder than he thought it’d be. “Basically, are you tired of watching them pine, and do you have the time and energy to play Cupid with us?”

For a moment, Changmin’s friend just stands there, staring him right in the eyes Eric. Then a smirk spreads over his face. “Of course I do,” he says, now grinning like a god damn maniac. “Count me in.”

A breath of relief rushes out of Eric’s lips. “Thank God,” he mumbles. “Give me your number. We start plotting this weekend.”

His phone comes back to him with a new contact named Kim Younghoon in it. “Why are you doing this, anyway?” Changmin’s friend – Younghoon – asks as Eric puts the phone away. “What’s in it for you? Didn’t you only meet Y/N when you crashed?”

“Their pining is disgustingly obvious,” Eric says matter of factly. “I’ve been Kevin’s friend for years, and now I’m also Y/N’s. Why not alleviate both of their pain by getting them together?”

Younghoon looks at Eric, almost like he’s appraising him. Eric feels kind of like a bug under a microscope and he’s absolutely sure this tall guy is going to take back his agreement and call him weird before he suddenly smiles widely. “You’re cool,” Younghoon declares as though he’s just made a scientific discovery to rival Einstein’s photoelectric effect. “Looking forward to... whatever this is.”

With that, Eric ducks out of the café as fast as possible, leaving the smell of coffee and (thankfully) Changmin’s burning stares behind. Once outside, he pulls out his phone again and creates a group chat.

To: schemerz

Eric: younghoon and kevin say hi to each other

Kevin: hi younghoon

Younghoon: hi kevin

Step one of operation cupid is complete. Eric grins.

Eric: pack your bags boyz we begin scheming tomorrow

Younghoon: why do we need to pack bags

Younghoon: are we going somewhere

Okay, well, maybe this will take some time, Eric thinks, looking at Younghoon’s texts. But it can’t be that bad. You and Changmin are so obviously crushing on each other. It won’t take too much work to make get you two together, will it?

. . . . .

~ younghoon

Younghoon genuinely never knew that trying to get his best friend together with the person he likes could be this infuriating.

It’s not only that he has to continually reassure Changmin that no, skater boy – whose name is Eric Sohn, stop calling him skater boy, I can hear the “derogatory” even if you don’t say it out loud, Changmin – is not dating you, yes, he heard it with his own two ears, and yes, Eric said it with his own words. Saying this over and over, honestly, is annoying enough. Younghoon can deal with that, though. It’s just a product of Changmin’s own insecurity and lovesickness, nothing that he can control.

But actually trying to set the two of you up?

Torture.

They first devise a stroll at the mall, just to get you two to actually maybe talk. Kevin demands that this plan be put first because he cannot stop screaming over the fact that the two of you are so whipped but haven’t spoken a single word to each other ever.

Which, honestly, same. But at least Younghoon doesn’t yell about it in the group chat.

(Sometimes, looking at all of the capital letters in Kevin’s messages gives him a headache.)

The plan is to invite both you and Changmin to the mall, then ditch so the two of you will maybe actually exchange a few words with each other by the end of the day. It’s going pretty well – both of you have agreed to go, completely unaware that the other is showing up – but then you have to cancel because of a sudden quiz you need to study for the next day.

Well, fine. Younghoon just ends up shopping with Changmin for the entire afternoon (Eric still ditches for obvious reasons – cough, Changmin, cough – and Kevin has to study for the same quiz, which he curses about endlessly in the group chat for an entire day). Not a big deal. Younghoon likes clothes, and against his better judgement, he likes Changmin.

So no harm done. Besides, there’s always next time, right?

Wrong.

The university dance team has a concert coming up that Kevin begs you to go to, all under the guise of supposedly supporting one of his friends, Juyeon. When you show up at the venue, Younghoon can still tell you’re confused over why you’re there – you don’t really know Juyeon, he hears you hiss to Kevin, so what’s going on? – but you seem nice enough. Friendly enough. Younghoon likes you immediately. 

This plan isn’t as straightforward as the mall-ditching one. A certain Ji Changmin is one of the best dancers on the team, so he has his own solo halfway through the show. Younghoon proposes that Kevin force you to show up so you can melt over Changmin’s performance and either profess your love right then and there (which is the ideal case) or at least compliment the dancer on his skills. Either way, it gets the two of you to talk.

So, suffice to say, Younghoon is pissed when his well thought-out, perfectly structured plan falls apart when you have to leave before the end of the entire show because your roommate needs you to do something or the other that is somehow more important than you confessing your undying love for Changmin.

(Nothing, he complains later in the group chat, could be more important than that. Not even your roommate nearly setting the whole dorm on fire. Eric might beg to disagree, but Younghoon will just tell him to beg.)

Well, it kind of works out. Your roommate’s fuckup doesn’t happen until after Changmin’s performance, and Younghoon gets a front row seat to your jaw literally dropping when he comes onstage and starts dancing the way his dance major body always does. Younghoon legitimately thinks he could pick stars out of your eyes, the way you’re staring at Changmin. And even though you have a hand over your mouth, he can easily tell you’re smiling like no tomorrow.

So Younghoon gets the satisfaction of both seeing your reaction to Changmin’s performance and telling Changmin that his crush watched him dance. The wave of shock that immediately crawls up his best friend’s face makes Younghoon want to cackle and shake his head at the same time. It gets even better when Younghoon relates the look on your face as you watched and the compliments you told him to pass on.

Changmin has never smiled that widely or that shyly, ever. As his best friend since childhood, Younghoon will attest to that. It’s amazing and offensive and slightly gross.

God, Changmin’s whipped.

But this small success doesn’t make up for half of the entire plan that failed. You and Changmin still didn’t talk, after all, even if you fell even deeper in disgusting love. So Kevin advocates for a return to the simple method of making plans and ditching.

This time, it’s a movie that the schemer line (hey, Younghoon came up with that name – he thinks it’s a damn sight better than Kevin’s “The Boyz,” regardless of what the younger boy says) plans to ditch you two at. Kevin suggests horror, mainly because he’s not going to be there to watch it, but also because of the ages-old cliché where you’ll probably get scared and hold Changmin’s hand or some shit.

(Younghoon knows it won’t be the other way around not because of some sexist idiocy, but because Changmin laughs at possession and ghosts and keeps horror movie masks in his room to scare his friends with. He thinks Annabelle and Chucky are cute. Worst case scenario, you happen to enjoy horror too, and the two of you bond over your weird interests. Which isn’t even a worst case scenario, because you two will talk, and that’s the whole point of the plan.)

They really think it’s going to work this time. Kevin reports you arriving on time to the theater and immediately runs off so you won’t see him and start asking questions like why he’s hiding behind the potted bushes outside a nearby bistro. Younghoon and Eric wait with bated breath at the campus café for any last-minute updates before Kevin gets back.

When Kevin actually shows up at the café, having taken the bus back from the theater, they’re about to celebrate a plan finally completed. Younghoon thinks he’s going to start screaming from relief.

Then a text shows up on Kevin’s phone from you, asking why he never showed up.

Panic.

When they finally get their minds together, Kevin rattles something off about a family emergency and a call he had to take, which gets you off his back for a bit. But then he asks if you actually went to see the movie anyway.

It turns out you left fifteen minutes later when no one showed up.

No one.

Meaning Changmin never got there either.

Eric slams his head on the table. Kevin looks like he’s about to explode. Younghoon himself is about to throw his drink at something when he gets a text from Changmin mere minutes later, asking where he is and why no one’s at the theater.

breadhoon: it’s so late?? why didn’t you text earlier??

qminnie: the bus was late :/// why isn’t anyone here? I know it’s not just because the theater is dark, I walked around all the seats and couldn’t find you or kevin

Kevin starts screaming.

As Eric’s shoving a yelling Kevin out of the café and apologizing to the baristas, Younghoon just fires off a quick excuse to Changmin, who’s apparently still at the theater – I’m really sorry, my dad called about something and it ran super late, just watch the movie and let me know how it is – all the while internally screaming as loudly as Kevin physically is in this moment.

Later that evening, Kevin texts the group chat with the question on all of their minds.

moon boy: how is it that all of our plans fucking failed

Younghoon just wants to jump off the top of his dorm building.

It turns out that Eric, despite being the youngest of the three of them, has the most brain cells. He proposes something so simple but with the potential to be so effective that it blows Younghoon’s mind.

“Well, if ditching them to be alone doesn’t work, we might as well just be there,” he reasons over morning cups of coffee (courtesy of Kevin, who lost rock paper scissors and is still pouting over it). “Someone throws a party, we all show up, and we can play, like, mafia. Or truth or dare or whatever. That’ll get them to interact, probably.”

It’s a beautiful plan. Younghoon hugs the younger boy and proclaims him the smartest freshman he’s ever met (“I’m pretty sure I’m the only freshman you’ve talked to this year, Younghoon.”). Kevin praises the higher beings for the seven tenths of a working brain cell that Eric holds.

They work out the details quickly. Sangyeon will host the party – he holds one every other month anyway, so it won’t be too much trouble to let him know what’s going on. Besides, his parties are usually pretty controlled, so less risk of someone doing something illegal and freaking everyone out. Younghoon, of course, will bring Changmin. Kevin will bring you and Eric. In turn, Eric says he’s going to bring his friend, Sunwoo, because, quote unquote, “I need a freshman to keep me sane after dealing with you messes of upperclassmen.”

(Well. He has a point. Younghoon may look put together, but the only things that register in his thoughts most of the time are anime and bread. Kevin doesn’t even bother looking put together, which only speaks volumes about his level of brain chaos.)

“If this doesn’t work,” Kevin declares the moment they finish hashing out the plan, “I’m going to drown myself in one of the fountains.”

“It will work,” Eric says, determined. “It has to.”

Younghoon doesn’t say anything. All of their past failures have taught him to keep his mouth shut. However, if this plan fails, he’ll gladly jump into a fountain with Kevin and inhale water up his nose.

. . . . .

~ you

“You’re not going to ditch me, are you?” you ask for the umpteenth time, narrowing your eyes once more at your (now exasperated) friend.

“No,” Kevin groans, rubbing his temples. “I’m not going to ditch you, and for the last time, there were emergencies, okay?”

You want to give them the benefit of the doubt, you really do. Especially Eric – there’s no way he would do anything malicious to you on purpose (meanwhile, if Kevin was mad enough, he just might), he’s just too sweet. But first Kevin dragged you to this dance show that you’ve never been to before, which was weird enough, and the timing for that last movie cancellation was too coincidental to not be suspicious. If it was just him cancelling, you might not question it, but none of the three showed up.

Kevin’s planning something, probably with Eric and Younghoon. You just don’t know what.

“Uh huh.” You make sure to show your disbelief in those two words as you walk up the steps to Sangyeon’s house. “Damn, it’s been a long time since I’ve been here.”

“It’s so big,” Eric says from behind where he’s finally caught up to you two. His friend, Sunwoo, lingers quietly at his side, though his wide eyes betray his amazement.

“I always forget how big this place is,” Kevin agrees, ringing the doorbell. “Just stay on the ground floor, though, it’s not too bad. And watch your drinks. Sangyeon’s parties are usually pretty chill, but anything could happen.”

You snort. “Yes, Mom,” you mock, just as the host himself opens the door. “Hey, Sangyeon!”

“Y/N!” He pulls you and Kevin in for a short hug, then smiles at the visibly nervous freshmen standing behind you two. “Oh, hi! You must be Eric and Sunwoo, right?”

They just nod, still awed. Kevin stifles a snort as your lips curl into a fond smile – it’s weird to remember that you used to be a freshman just like them,. There isn’t much more time to think, though, because Sangyeon quickly ushers the four of you inside and all of your thoughts drown in the party’s chaos.

A couple of hours pass in mind-numbing peace. Kevin mixes you an atrocious cocktail that you pour down the sink when he isn’t looking. You watch Jacob shake his hips on the dance floor while Kevin twerks to Beyoncé. Even Eric and Sunwoo, who were originally just hovering around you, loosen up after a shot or two and find someone else they know to talk to, a freshman whose name you’re pretty sure is Hyunjoon.

Things are going well, you think in your tipsy haze. No one’s thrown up yet, no one’s passed out (well, Felix looks pretty sleepy, but he’s a sleepy drunk – how much Jisung already managed to give him to drink, you aren’t sure), and best of all, no one’s done anything stupid that’ll go viral on the school’s Snapchat. This is nice.

Then Kevin grabs you by the wrist, done twerking, and hollers unintelligible words in your ear as he drags you to the edge of the dance floor. He says more, but all you catch is “watch” and a yelled “YOUNG BOON.” Or something like that. 

Confused, you just try not to spill your drink as Kevin pushes you through the crowd that’s forming in the living room. There’s a lot of yelling and cheering as the music changes, and then someone gets pushed to the middle of the dance floor.

A hand flies to your mouth.

It’s Changmin.

“Kevin,” you hiss. “Kevin! That’s Changmin!”

Even drunk, your friend manages to give you the most judgmental look you’ve ever seen. “No shit, Sherlock,” he snaps. “Just watch!”

For a moment, Changmin just stands in the middle of the circle that’s formed, eyes wide and doe-like (and absolutely fucking adorable, even under the red lighting). Then something in him shifts – it nearly gives you whiplash – and the dancer Changmin you saw that day Kevin dragged you to the concert comes out in full force.

It’s short, his performance, much shorter than the five-minute long solo he had at the concert. But holy fuck, it’s explosive. Even the smallest flicks of his fingers seem to send off sparks of light, red glinting off his face and the buttons on his shirt.

He has you captivated, so much so that you don’t register Kevin shifting until he’s positioned almost directly behind you. Changmin’s dance is winding down, a softer look coming back into his previously focused eyes, and everyone’s cheering and starting to clap before a harsh shove sends you sprawling forward.

For a moment, you stand right in front of Changmin, eyes undoubtedly wide with confusion as the situation filters through your muddled brain. Embarrassment begins to spread through your body as people begin to chant, “DANCE! DANCE! DANCE!”

Fuck. 

This must have been Kevin’s plan.

Whipping your head around, you try to find and glare at your friend (you’re seriously rethinking that title), but he’s already disappeared. You then try to shrink back into the crowd, but they don’t let you. Someone plucks the cup from your hand, erasing your last excuse for leaving the circle of screaming partygoers as you look around desperately for a way out.

Then a hand extends into your vision, fingers twitching in a gesture you’ve come to associate with a certain person at a certain time at a certain place, two ten p.m. on Mondays and Wednesdays just inside the literature building.

Slowly, you look up to see Changmin shyly smiling back, eyes glinting in the way you’ve come to (not so) secretly adore.

A grin unconsciously spreads across your face as he launches back into his dance, more laid-back and flowy this time, much like the moonwalks he does down the halls at school. Almost on instinct, you lurch into his space, barely managing to brush over his foot as he nimbly steps away.

On a normal day, the dance you do is already messy and weird to passersby – you’ve made your way onto at least one of the university Snapchat stories already – so you can’t imagine how this looks in the moment. It must seem so uncoordinated, especially with your limbs loose with alcohol (Changmin still moves as steadily as ever, what the fuck) and the fact that you can’t really see where you’re stepping in the dim red light of the room. But it doesn’t matter – Changmin’s grinning so widely and you’re laughing, really laughing, loud enough to overpower what you think is Kevin’s yelling (it sounds something like “WHY ARE YOU DOING YOUR FUCKING MATING DANCE AND NOT DANCING LIKE A NORMAL PERSON?”, so it must be him), and everyone’s cheering and clapping and even though you can see a few phones being pulled out, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter. All that matters is your fingers brushing against Changmin’s, his laugh ringing in your ear, and the smiles on your faces until –

Until Changmin grabs your outstretched hand, tangling his fingers in yours, and encircles your waist with his free hand before dipping you down until his face hovers just a foot above yours.

Someone’s screaming, someone that definitely sounds like Kevin, but you can’t process it. Everything feels like you’re underwater – muffled, blurred, indecipherable. All you can think of is how fast your heart is beating, how hot your face feels, and how intensely Changmin is staring into your eyes.

Holy shit.

You can barely breathe.

When Changmin eventually lets you up to screams and hoots, your knees almost buckle. If not for his fingers still entangled in yours, you probably would’ve collapsed, but he seems to sense this and grips your hand even tighter.

The smile can’t leave your face, even though it turns smaller and shyer as the crowd disperses and you’re left holding Changmin’s hand for no reason. You should let go, probably, but you don’t want to, and Changmin doesn’t seem uncomfortable with it either. Still, the physical link between you two only grows more and more obvious as the two of you stand in silence, unable or unwilling to speak.

Changmin finally breaks it. “Hi,” he says in this voice that legitimately makes you want to crumble into the ground. It’s soft, it’s sweet, it’s something entirely uncharacteristic yet at the same time so fitting for the boy who just danced his heart out on Sangyeon’s living room floor. “I’m Changmin.”

Your voice leaves you, and the minute you take to find it feels like an eternity. These are your first words to him, your mind screams – don’t say anything stupid!

Staring into his sparkling doe eyes, you swallow hard before saying your first words to the boy who may or may not have already stolen your heart.

“Hi,” you say, smile threatening to grow even wider, wide enough to split your face. “I’m Y/N.”

. . .

~ changmin

He’s only heard three words from you, but Changmin thinks he could drown in your voice. It’s lovely, smooth in a way that flows over his body like warm spring rain. Willingly, he would stand under the shower of your gentle tones, putting his face to the sky and letting your words wash over him, soothing his skin.

Vaguely, his mind tells him that it’s way too early to start waxing poetic about your voice. You’ve only spoken three words to him, for fuck’s sake – what is he even doing?

A whisper that sounds suspiciously like Younghoon floats through his brain. You’re whipped.

Well. He just might be.

“Isn’t this kind of weird?” you suddenly say, jerking Changmin out of his you-induced haze. The smile on your face is a little embarrassed, now, and he catches you glancing at your fingers still linked with his. Briefly, he wonders if he should let go – he’s the one who first grabbed your hand, after all, what if you’re uncomfortable? – but you don’t seem to hate it. If anything, your smile grows a little shyer.

Changmin may think horror movie dolls are cute, but your smile is even cuter. He might melt right then and there.

Belatedly, he realizes you’re looking at him, waiting for a response. “Um – weird?” he replies, praying that his voice doesn’t crack.

(It doesn’t, not this time. Thank the lord.)

You look down again, this time at your feet. Probably out of embarrassment. “I mean,” you say, silvery voice tickling Changmin’s ears, “we’ve been interacting for at least several months.” The full force of your smile hits Changmin as you raise your head. “But we’ve barely spoken a word to each other.” When you laugh, he hears bells. “Isn’t that strange?”

“Well, when you put it that way, yeah.” Changmin giggles (yes, he fucking giggles, what the hell, why can’t he sound any cooler than he really is?). “But I think it was lucky. Well, I think I was lucky to meet you.”

He wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. He wasn’t fucking supposed to say that – what’s wrong with him? He used to be so good at watching his words – but at least, despite his embarrassment at having revealed this part of him, he gets to see you flustered. It’s adorable, he thinks, so much more adorable than anything else in the world. “How come you, um, stepped in my way that first time?” he asks, genuinely curious.

Changmin doesn’t expect the embarrassed snort that comes out of your mouth, but it makes him laugh. “You know that meme, the one where it’s like ‘why are you doing this?’ and your brain just says ‘you gotta?’” Rolling your eyes slightly, you snicker. “That’s what went through my mind. You never bump into anyone, so, well, someone had to try to mess you up.”

Changmin’s going to print a hundred copies of that meme and tape them all over his dorm. He will never be so grateful for a stinking Internet horcrux in his entire life.

Well, okay, he’s probably exaggerating. But still.

“That’s mean,” he says, purposely pouting his lips. “Why would you want to mess me up?”

You elbow his ribs, giggling. “Someone has to bring the king down at some point.”

Changmin’s about to take advantage of his current burst of confidence to respond to that – “You think I’m the king?” – and possibly fluster you even more, but someone’s yelling “LOVEBIRDS!” in a voice that sounds a little too much like Kevin’s. Both of you turn around instinctively, which probably only fuels the lovebird fire (though Changmin can’t bring himself to care at the moment).

“WE’RE PLAYING MAFIA!” someone else – is that Jaehyun? Probably – yells. “GET OVER HERE!”

“Mafia?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “That…”

Changmin can hear the exasperated apprehension in your voice. He hears it in his own whenever his friend group gets together to play the game. “Let’s just see what happens,” he suggests, trying hard not to melt when you look over at him. “Someone might do something stupid?”

Your laughter sounds like sparkles, wind chimes twinkling in the breeze. Changmin wonders what he wouldn’t give to hear it for the rest of his life. “You’re right, you’re right.” Glancing once more (and smiling a little wider) at your still-linked hands, you jerk your head in your friends’ direction. “Shall we?”

As he nods, Changmin privately thinks that there’s nothing in the world that could dissuade him from following you.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for this stupid oblivious couple GOD)

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

Deleted Scenes: A Character Study (Part 1)

Longer title -- “Deleted Scenes: if the Criminal Minds writers had any idea how to incorporate dramatic back story into a working narrative, A Character Study”

Every once in a while I get impassioned about something that happens in the show, or more importantly that doesn’t happen in the show -- but should have. This will probably be one of at least a handful, but for now, enjoy the pinnacle of my rage. Fueled by all the OPENINGS for Hotch to talk about his past and the writers taking advantage of NONE OF THEM, but this was my breaking point.

Rating: General 

Warnings: mentions of past child abuse

Pairing: none

Characters: Hotch, JJ

Episode, and placement: Season 10, Episode 05, “Boxed In”; after the episode 

Word count: 2,404

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29796501/chapters/73302726

--

A Prime Example

--

Very few things get to Aaron Hotchner. Especially things that are said with no relatable context to him or the details people don’t know about his life. His past, in particular. He pushes them back in compartmentalized little boxes, carefully labeled and sorted and set aside to be unpacked at a later date. They aren’t important when he’s on a case. When a twelve-year-old boy is missing and his life hangs in the balance. When time is of the essence. 

Which is why, on numerous occasions, he lets the things people say slide. 

Especially on the topic of Nature versus Nurture. 

He, himself, has written a handful of papers and reports on the very argument. There’s no doubt that Nature and Nurture have complicated roles in why ‘bad people do bad things’, in layman's terms. But the stigma surrounding it, cutting it into a black and white, all or nothing scenario will always rub him the wrong way. Not because he believes in it, one way or the other, but because he lives it. Day after day. 

It’s not his team’s fault that they don’t know that. Hotch keeps those parts of his life to himself. Lessons only he has learned, and has grown from, and keeps as careful guidelines. 

Until this case.

“I guess we all become our parents at some point.”

The way JJ had said this -- steady, with no hesitation, despite the choice in phrasing indicating it could be a right or wrong assumption -- gave the statement an air of inevitability. Creating a precedent in her mind that set Hotch's teeth on edge, though it had not been the appropriate moment to correct her on it. But it's not the first time JJ has said something along those lines. 

“Does the son of a sociopath even really have a chance?” 

Not a lot gets to Aaron Hotchner. Every other remark, observation, detail of an unsub’s correlation between their upbringing and their crimes he doesn’t let sting his exposition. It has never affected him before, and he vowed it never will. His father doesn’t get to take that away from him, too.

But the inevitability of her statement, indicating it was only a matter of time. No matter what he has done with his life or the person he has worked so hard to become and imbody, ultimately it wouldn’t matter in the end. That one day, Aaron Hotchner would be just like his father. He doesn’t know if he’d be able to live with himself, if that were to happen. 

That single, throw-away sentence, with a pedestrian phrasing he has heard over and over again, gets to Hotch. It buries itself in him like a tick and refuses to let go, not for tweezers or fire or smothering indifference. It is still there, echoing in his head as if shouted down a long tunnel, even after they get back to Quantico and are finishing up the closing paperwork later that week. He finds himself barely able to glance at JJ for longer than a moment without hearing her words once more, and Hotch berates himself for it. Over and over again. This is why he shuts it all down and doesn’t talk about it. This is why he keeps it buried, where it will never resurface. It interferes with the present, with his work and his friendships and his relationship with his son. 

His past needs to stay dead and buried in a plot in rural Virginia, where it belongs.

“I have those reports for you, Hotch,” JJ says, as if procured by his musings. He glances up for the briefest of moments, barely a blink, to acknowledge her and nod in thanks as she leaves the folders on his desk. Then he’s turning back to the SWAT team justification reports and expects that to be the last of it. Drowning himself in his work, where everything is strict codes and formal speech patterns and no emotional influence whatsoever.

Which is why he is surprised to hear JJ address him, again. Never having left his office. 

“Sir?” The formal term catches his attention even more. “Is everything alright? Did something happen after you missed Halloween night?”

“What?” The question genuinely throws him off, though it doesn’t show on his face. He had missed Halloween, the first time he had ever done so, but Jack understood. He was always much more accepting of the parameters of Hotch’s job than Haley ever was. It was all he’s ever known. “Oh, no -- Jack had a fun night. Slept on the couch so I could see him in his costume when he got home. How was Henry’s night?”

“He and Will had a great time,” JJ answers, her careful, worried expression not waning in the face of Hotch’s slightly more upbeat tone. It’s something he slips into subconsciously when speaking about Jack, or to Jack, or anywhere Jack might hear. Compartmentalization. “I just… noticed you seem off.”

Hotch nods once, in acknowledgement, because he knows he has. He’s working on it. There was no need for an intervention like this. He’s the Team Leader and Unit Chief, he wasn’t the one people were supposed to be checking on.

“Delayed reaction to the case,” he answers, looking back to the SWAT team report and signing off on another section for mobilization after hours. Overtime justifications. Bureaucracy needs the ‘i’s dotted and ‘t’s crossed. “Nothing to worry about.” 

JJ takes pause, and still doesn’t make for the door of his office. Like she needs to elaborate somehow, now that Hotch has left a small crack of an opening into his inner sanctum. 

“I know we all have cases that hit us too close to home,” she concedes, the start of a much longer speech. “Young boys, even the troublemakers --”

“No, JJ, I appreciate the concern,” Hotch interrupts, and does his best to appease her by keeping the hardness off his face. “But it’s nothing to do with Jack or facts we found. It’s a personal matter.” 

“Of course, it’s just --”

Years ago, that would have been that and JJ would have left his office. But time and history have blurred their relationship from boss and subordinate to friends and family. Personal matter no longer meant private, it meant a switch in barriers. It meant family. 

She steps closer to his desk.

“You are always there for us, for these kinds of cases.” Her blue eyes bore into his, a technique Hotch recognizes as a fellow parent, to get through and make sure the person they are speaking to is really listening. “But, do you ever allow anyone to be there for you?”

He sighs through his nose. She’s not going to let this go, he can see that. No profiling needed.

“Sit.” 

Closing the file, Hotch resigns himself to the fact that this was something inadvertently he’d been wanting to talk to JJ about, anyway. She had been a profiler for the team almost nearly as long as she’d been communications liaison, now, and although this could have waited for her performance review -- it tied into what was bothering him. The small smile of victory, and relief, slips from her lips as she sees the serious set to Hotch’s mouth. JJ is one hell of a profiler. The best ones did it without even knowing they were doing so.

“Wait… is this about me?” she looks mildly scandalized to even have to suggest it. Although really, it shouldn’t surprise her too much. Hotch knows he isn’t great about making things about himself, even when the conversation is supposed to be. So he gathers his thoughts, with such little prep time, and decides to start with where this whole debacle had begun. 

In the car. When JJ had made her off-handed comment.

“The events of our lives shape us, and bring us here. As they do for everyone. It’s a technique that also helps us narrow down our profiles. How we were raised, what he have gone through. Heredity factors.”

JJ is staring hard at him, now. Deciphering the point, attempting to look ten steps ahead when Hotch has barely revealed three.

“You’re talking about Nature versus Nurture.” 

“You could say that,” Hotch acquiesces. “In a lot of ways we are our parent’s lineage. Unless we choose not to be. I only became a prosecutor because my father was. But now, here I am.”

The parent’s lineage is a direct drop towards the conversation in the car. Both JJ and Hotch are intelligent adults, as is the entire team. Sometimes the most direct reference isn’t needed. Sometimes a key phrase is what links the mind back to the moment, replays it in the mind’s eye so it becomes fresh and there’s no confusion. Fewer words can connect more than a thousand, Hotch had learned that early on as well. 

“I was… I was speaking more toward behavior,” JJ elaborates, still unaware where the conversation is going. How this has correlated to Hotch’s odd mood. 

“I know you were. And my statement still stands,” Hotch answers plainly. “I’ve noticed that sometimes agents, myself included, let bias dictate their profiles. And we need to stray away from that kind of influence.” 

JJ’s slight frown becomes defensive. Confused, but not angry. She’s learning quickly, Hotch notices. 

“Nature and Nurture are a part of standard psychology practices. With a lot of information and testing to back it up. Spence could give you statistics for days, I’m sure. It’s proven.”

“Yes, as a theory. Not as a rule.” Hotch continues, giving her that steady, stern but gentle tone that borders on chastisement. 

“I have yet to see an exception to that rule, when it comes to children of violent offenders,” JJ buckles down. “If they are the target of that violence, it warps them, Hotch. Plain and simple. How do they recover from something like that?” She’s shaking her head, getting caught up in the emotional aspect of it all over again. The hopelessness of its appearance.

“Any way they can.” 

Now he has JJ’s attention, because she hears the shift as soon as it forms on his tongue. The air heavier, hazy like an old memory.

“Sometimes they leave home as soon as they graduate just to escape the situation, and spend their whole adult lives trying to eradicate it. By burying themselves in, say… Law School.” JJ’s stare goes vacant, and Hotch at least has the decency to look away from her as he continues. He has a point to make. “So they can put away people like their abuser. But when that’s not enough, prosecuting after the fact, they start to focus on ways to catch the offenders in the act. Save victims in the real world. Use what they know from experience, but in the field, so no one else slips through the cracks.”

“H-Hotch, I--”

“If there was a file on me as detailed as these on my desk, and there probably is somewhere in this building,” Hotch barrels on, not letting JJ get a word in edgewise. “Then the first seventeen years of my homelife would look nearly identical to John David Bidwell's childhood.” He didn’t need to go into further detail, though bullet points from the case all bust flash between them in neon. 

Strict, domineering father figure. Church every Sunday, as a control and appearance factor. At home: a constant deluge of beratements, fear, shouting and fists. Something was always wrong, someone always deserved a punishment. No one was safe. They did what they could, followed the rules to a tee, but that wasn't always enough.

They survived, because that's all that they could do.

And he had.

“If you really require a physical, living exception to the rule, I’d like to hope we know each other well enough that you would consider myself that exception.” It’s the closest he’s ever come to admitting what happened in his father’s household, and Hotch knows that’s as far as he will let it go. No elaboration needed. “Even if I can be ‘a bit of a bully’.” 

Stunned and shocked, the last part probably wasn’t needed. But, again, Hotch has a point he’s trying to get across -- and he wants it to make an impact.

“Hotch, I’m so sorry,” JJ croaks out, and he still can’t look right at her.

“Don’t be, you didn’t know,” he soothes her, swallowing a little hard. “No one on the team does, not even Dave.”

“--No one?”

“The only one who probably did was Gideon, but not because I told him. He was just that good of a profiler. You will be, too, one day -- I see that level of potential in you. Profilers are always learning, evolving, developing their skills.” Hotch finally turns his head, and catches sight of JJ with her eyes bright and her nose red. Her tell-tale physical signs that she’s been holding back tears. “Let this be one of those moments.” 

She nods, wipes at her eyes discreetly, and collects herself with more strength than Hotch or anyone else ever gives her credit for.

“Was he ever convicted? Your father?”

“No,” Hotch says, level. “He died of colon cancer ten years ago. He never even met Jack. Neither did my mother, though I am sorry for that.” 

Silence stretches in the wake of Hotch’s reveal, and JJ only breaks it when she can’t seem to keep it back any more.

“You’re… you’re not really a bully. You know.”

“Yes, I am,” Hotch tells her, the smallest traces of a smile smoothing the sharp edges of his face. “But only when I choose to be. When it matters.” 

JJ huffs out a watery laugh, scoots to the edge of her seat as if to stand, but hesitates once more.

“You didn’t have to tell me. But thank you. I’m… I’m glad you felt that you could.” 

The sentiment warms the inside of Hotch’s chest, ice cold from the memories he never dredged up if he could afford it. It helps ease them back under the floorboards of his mind, where they belong.

“Thank you for listening.” 

She was right. He didn’t confide in anyone, and he doesn’t know if this will help him -- more than likely, not -- but it helped JJ. And that’s what mattered. His team. His family. Growing, learning, becoming all the better for it. The best people he had ever known. 

The family he had chosen for himself.

“Goodnight, Hotch.”

“Night, JJ.”

-end scene-

[woodchoc-magnum]

L0ne St@r 2x12 Hate Watch

DO NOT REBLOG THIS ONE - thanks, I’m trying to fly under the radar with my negative opinions here

Usual disclaimer, and I mean it this time: If you watch and love this show, that’s great and I hope you continue to enjoy it. Please don’t read this - simply go about having a lovely day.

If you do love this show and T*rlos and are braving this anyway - do not come in here. I mean it. This is not a T*rlos friendly zone. I do not ship it. Please enjoy your ship in peace and harmony. I have no intention of getting into arguments with anyone, I will simply ignore you.

I have done everything I can to avoid this showing up in the tags, whatever the LS tags are. Don’t send me hate on anon because I’ll delete them; I don’t care if you think I should stop watching the show, I’m not gonna. I like to suffer.

Eddie Diaz for calm and strength and to centre ourselves:

Hate, as always, under the cut:

Let's do this fucking thing, I've heard bad things about this episode

And I already know I'm wrong about the arsonist which is ANNOYING but maybe also too obvious so that's okay, I also know who the arsonist is and all the main plot points but I’ve still got to watch it to really appreciate the subtle nuances of the episode:

Oooh Billy

I ship it

Billwen for the win

This show is so dumb

Billy is smarter than Owen, maybe he should be the captain of the 126

I miss his lightning scars though

He's TWO HOURS LATER FOR DINNER

TK is looking as bland as always

They seriously waited for two fucking hours for this guy

Maybe should've put some deodorant on before going to dinner there Owen

You know I can't imagine the OG doing a storyline as dumb as this

So Carlos' dad thinks it's someone who works at the 126 or just a firefighter in general?

Well gosh darn it, it looks like Owen fits that profile exactly!

At least we get some Judd early in the episode and I love him

Angela Bassett is executive producer on this show as well? I hope she gets paid cash money for this

Billy is the red herring and I fell right into their trap

I just really wanted it to be him

Ooh Grace was listening

Oh it's 100% the arson investigator and Billy is 100% turning Owen in, I love him

Billy is amazing

He's my favourite character on this show

I hope he's not working with Owen to get the arson investigator? I hope he's actually this devious

I want him to be THIS DEVIOUS

Why the fuck does Owen wear that hoodie everywhere

TK is now having a little bitch fit

"they can't do that, can they?" he asks in a monotone, his face blank and devoid of expression

TK's real real dumb

Oh ho ho is this the shoving scene

IT IS

God Ronen CANNOT ACT

Okay so while I think it is wildly unbelievable that they would send TK's boyfriend to tell him that his father had been arrested by HIS father – it seems like a conflict – I would like to say that Carlos is being calm and reasonable

And TK is acting like a little BITCH

This is escalating quickly

Oh TK you so dumb

THE SHOVING

Wow

FOUR TIMES

Wow

Your fave is problematic, yo

Carlos deserves better than this whiny little piece of shit

And now, an interlude while I rant:

Let's talk about how Eddie Diaz yelled at Buck once in a supermarket and the fandom has never forgotten it; how his character has been villainised despite everything else going on in the show at the time, for that one fucking scene – let's talk about all the fics where Eddie hits Buck, or punches him, or rapes him – because you know those fics exist – let's talk about the "Eddie is violent" narrative that parts of this fandom like to push because Eddie yelled at Buck, one time, once, in a supermarket

Totally ignoring the fact that at no point at all, in any other episode he’s been in, has he been violent towards Buck, at all - let’s talk about how the street fighting arc was out of character for Eddie, because he was struggling to cope and looking for an outlet - let’s talk about how Buck and Eddie moved past that whole storyline and strengthened their relationship; how they built a family together, how they’re a team and they have each other’s backs no matter what, and how, not once in the entire show, have they ever been violent towards each other or pushed each other around in anger - NOT ONCE.

And let's talk about this scene, where TK, ya boy, ya sweet tender boy, just shoved the man he says he loved four times, violently, in front of people at the firehouse.

I betcha any money he doesn’t get tarnished with the Eddie-Diaz-is-violent brush, because he can do no wrong. He’s the fan favourite, and this is totally glossed over by the end of the episode and nothing will ever be said about it ever again.

Because wow, you guys. Wow. If this was my ship, I’d be pissed.

Back to the hate watch:

And I know that whole fight is for nothing because I know the plot twist – I know that the dads are working together in order to reveal the real arsonist, the investigator – so they've basically turned their children, who are in a relationship, against each other?

Also why is Billy allowed to be watching the interview?

Goddamn do we really have to show the gruesome burn victim photos

I really want Billy to be devious by the way, and not in on the plan

Oh here comes TK, looking like the little bitch he is

God he's a fucking awful actor

This is the dumbest plotline ever

Equating OWEN STRAND WITH THOR? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

BLASPHEMY

THOR IS THE GOD OF THUNDER

OWEN IS A DUMBASS

THE TWO ARE NOT EQUAL

Uh oh here comes the evil investigator

Do either of these men – Owen and Carlos' dad – stop to consider that what they're doing has kind of an impact on their children, who are currently in a relationship? No? Okay

Because this is one hell of an awkward situation

Does Owen genuinely think that Billy is the arsonist?

Interesting that the arson investigator wants any info Owen didn't give Carlos' dad, and he turned off the cameras/mics etc

This show is stupid

Arson investigator also knows that the sons are dating, interesting

"And you can pound sand!" oooh great comeback Owen

This episode is so BORING OMG

Why the fuck am I watching a shitty Law & Order knock-off when I should be watching a bonkers 911 episode

Oh no Judd's at Billy's

I really do think Billy Burke is good looking and it is a flaw of mine, I don't know what it is about him and he really doesn't look that good in this show but I really love Billy Burke okay

And I WANT HIM TO BE DEVIOUS

Oh Judd

Oh Judd thinks Billy is the arsonist

See this is why YOU DON'T LIE TO THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU

Oh he punched him

God damn everyone is violent in this show

Judddddddddddddd

Uh oh here comes trouble to the "vagrant's" hospital room

Oh it's the arson investigator, their little bluff worked, incredible, amazing, flawless etc

Wow how amazing

It was the ol' switcheroo

Judd punched Billy for nothing

TK and Carlos nearly came to blows for nothing

Now Owen is allowed to watch the interrogation? They'll just let anyone watch those things these days

OH MAN ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT BILLY WAS IN ON IT WITH OWEN THE WHOLE TIME?

Damn it I wanted DEVIOUS god damn it

Fucking cowards

"I assumed it was probably a trap at the hospital which is why I went there anywhere"

But why is he lighting fires

A FEW MONTHS?

A man is dead

Pure theatre

So annoyed that Billy isn't devious

But the Billwen ship sails on, clowns 🤡

Do we think the arsonist has the hots for Owen? 100% yes, right?

He's very happy to see him wink wonk

This doesn't even feel like an episode of 911, it's so goddamn dumb

"I knew you had darkness in you too" – that dude definitely wants to fuck him

Why is he lighting the fires?

They're so dumb

"And now I'm going to repay the favour" – he's talking about YOUR SONS

WHO HE KNOWS ARE TOGETHER

Wow these two dumbasses really have no fucking idea do they

OH HE'S BURNING HIMSELF ALIVE

Wow this is graphic

What the fuck is up with this show and the horribly graphic scenes lately?

That dude is dead yo

"Take away everything that's important to me" AND HE CALLS THE FIREHOUSE FIRST

THE FIREHOUSE IS THE FIRST FUCKING CALL???

Oh okay it did blow up and TK was there so I'll allow it

But hey look on the bright side – Owen gets to remodel again!

And isn't that what he's the best at?

Yo your firehouse is on fire dudes, better call the fire department

Does Judd apologise to Billy or no

Oh here we have TK and Carlos and their perfect love

And Carlos is the one apologising?

No.

Please tell me no

Carlos you are allowed to be pissed at him – ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

"nobody has to apologise?"

YOUR BOYFRIEND PUSHED YOU AROUND

Oh my god

Wow

Okay.

Look I'm just saying that to me this would be a GIGANTIC RED FLAG but wtf do I know

I'm just saying because I have to – if Carlos was a woman and TK did that? Whole different story gang

Whole completely different mother-fucking story

This show, wow

Wow.

Wow. This is bad.

Domestic violence happens to men too, just saying.

Wow I'm so annoyed that I've paused it to type furiously and rant that wow, they're just not acknowledging that TK was totally out of line? Okay. Wow.

And everyone's just fine with it?

Oh they're just figuring out that he set more than one fire

Maybe there's something else you care about other than the firehouse, Owen

Maybe?

BILLY IS THE ONE WHO FIGURES IT OUT

See this is why Billy is the best

Oh no TK and Carlos are in danger

Oh it's so romantic isn't it? They're gonna fuck now that everything is okay

Wow he left a lot of bombs in Carlos' house

Damn Carlos is hot

No smoke alarms?

That fire has really taken ahold there guys

I'm gonna assume you do have smoke alarms and he disconnected them

Wow he really covered all bases didn't he

Put the bombs in the bedroom as well

RIP Carlos' nice house

"I love you too" after I violently shoved you around today

Oh who needs a fucking fire department when you've got Owen fucking Strand right?

"Carlos" he says flatly. "How are you doing?" he asks in a monotone

"I should've had an extinguisher in the bedroom" DUDE NO ONE DOES

And if TK wanted one in there, he's the fucking firefighter, he should've checked when he moved in instead of assuming like a dumbass

God this show is dumb as fuck and I hate it so much

Billwen for the win

"just a couple of crap magnets" fucking a-men Judd

This show sucks

Oh no TOMMY OH NO

WHAT'S HAPPENING

OH MY GOD

WHAT THE FUCK

What the fuck

Is he dead?

TAKE OWEN AND TK INSTEAD

I’m going to say one more thing about this T*rlos storyline - if they’d done this to Buck & Eddie in the OG, I’d be fucking devastated. Like... if Buck or Eddie pushed the other around the way TK pushed Carlos around, I’d be absolutely gutted. It’s really horrible that they went down that path - whether it’s OOC or not, and you can probably argue that it is - they shouldn’t have included the scene like that in the show. 

It just raises a whole slew of questions, like... is TK violent? Is Carlos used to being pushed around in relationships? Is the show saying that it’s okay that they got a little physical because they’re both men? Domestic violence is never okay, and this is kind of... saying that it is, in certain circumstances?

That is problematic as fuck and such bad writing.

These two are in a relationship where they are living together and supposedly love each other, and this is how the writers choose to portray it? If you’re a T*rlos shipper and you’re upset about this episode, I get it. It’s really fucking terrible that they included that scene - and I would bet cold hard cash it’ll never be addressed again.

This is why LS is a bad show. It’s shitty writing. Shitty storylines. Characters who are interesting are shoved into the background and glossed over in favour of the male white characters. The OG doesn’t have this problem - for everyone complaining that Eddie hasn’t been featured as much this season (and yeah, I hate it too) - you can’t complain that the characters of colour don’t get equal screentime. 

With LS - it’s the Rob Lowe show, and everyone else is just in the background. And that’s why it’s so frustrating to watch - they have a great cast, and this could be a really good show, but it’s just not.

Do you think the LS writers patted themselves on the back after this arc and were like, "yeah we nailed it, we're amazing?"

This episode is -1,000000/10. This show should be cancelled.

Two god awful miserable fucking episodes to go.

Diaz to cleanse:

[qvid-pro-qvo]

Hi! Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought that Amanda actually didn’t know that he was in a relationship? As far as I remember he specifically had been avoiding telling her, unless it did happen and I missed it, which totally could be the case!

BUT If she really is unaware I do think it’s a good point to bring up, because then she wouldn’t be knowingly jeopardizing his and Nicole’s relationship.

Also, if she in fact doesn’t know, and they didn’t break up off like some people have said, then I have a feeling next season will be very very complicated for them.

(P.s, I’m with you on the POC, I just wanted to bring up this point, totally wasn’t ignoring that part of the discussion)

if she is unaware of sonny in a relationship, then, yes! it absolutely changes some things! a) it changes that amanda pursues sonny only when he is unreachable to her, helping her growth in the story, and b) makes sonny's role in the kiss... very shady (actively keeping it from her, ew), then and makes amanda's role in it one that is definitely more passive.

but like you said, it also doesn't change other things. it does not change that nicole was used for white character plotlines and tossed aside for... woke points and furthering of a white couple (namely sonny). it does not change that, again, sonny and nicole as far as we know [in the canon of the episode (and from what we can tell from any deleted scenes that have not been released)] have not broken it off and sonny is reciprocating a kiss that he knows is wrong, and in a moment that feels really ooc for him. and like you said, it just makes things complicated unnecessarily.

thanks for bringing this up, anon. it's a fair acknowledgement. i thought amanda knew, but if she didn't it does change some things. for me, however, it doesn't change enough for it to not feel gross, though, especially on sonny's end and in a way that could've been totally avoided.

[gffa]

#SOLAD SPOILERS and #SOLAD REPLIES if you want to either avoid spoilers or avoid the salt!  I would also encourage everyone to read the story for themselves, because people are going to see things differently, going to register things differently, and everyone should judge for themselves! Continuing the discussion from this post and this post @duchess-of-mandalore replied:

Thanks for clarifying this. I totally agree with this. The thing is, I don’t see it as “prioritizing the romantic relationship” as much as just … forgetting that other moments of rage already existed (I mentioned before that the author feels like a casual fan, and I’m sticking by that).

I think the author felt that because he chose to view Obi-Wan’s rage through The Lawless (which probably seemed like an attractive choice, given that it’s the highest rated episode short of The Siege of Mandalore), he had to keep the story about The Lawless (also, when you have to get through the whole episode and you only have 30 pages, I get that there’s a lot that needs to get glossed over).

But you can’t just pick one episode and examine it within the a vacuum.

Because you’re absolutely right. I’m a diehard Obitine shipper, but the author did not convince me at all that this is the first time Obi-Wan has felt rage. Far from it. There should have been much more about Qui-Gon (where Obi-Wan’s reaction feels much more rage-filled to me), and definitely more reflection on Maul, especially his taunting of Obi-Wan.

We’re obviously in agreement that this episode does not show rage. It shows grief. And so unfortunately, whether you’re an Obitine shipper or not, I don’t have much positive to say about this story, because it feels like a complete misrepresentation of this episode and the character of Obi-Wan Kenobi (in regards to his past, and how he’s feeling at this point in time), in a way that makes me wonder how it came to print in this current status.

It’s interesting how we interpret the amount of romance in this story, because I felt like it was very obvious that it was a romantic relationship, that Obi-Wan may have called her a “friend”, but also he repeats the line of how he would have left the Jedi Order for her, and I don’t think you can divorce that scene--or the entire Obitine relationship, honestly--from being a romantic one.  So, whatever they do with it, however it’s described, it’s very obviously meant as a romantic one, for me.  (Though, I can see how you feel it was the most aromantic version of their relationship yet and found it dissatisfying and I hear you on that.) Further, what frustrated me about the story was that it’s still a) fridging Satine for Obi-Wan’s manpain (not the fault of the story, that was already in TCW, but it’s important because--) b) not really Satine’s story.  I have two problems with this, in that it prioritized this relationship over Obi-Wan’s relationship with Qui-Gon, despite that Obi-Wan absolutely had dealt with rage before--in TPM!  In this anthology in the Maul story!, that even Anakin’s scene felt like it was half there just to put us in the frame of mind of comparing Obitine and Anidala. I found this frustrating because Satine deserves a story that’s hers.  Not Obi-Wan thinking about how she wore certain colors or flowers to remind Mandalore of what they could one day be again.  That’s a lovely sentiment, but give it to me from Satine, not from Obi-Wan.  And I found it frustrating because I don’t buy for one second that Obi-Wan didn’t understand why he couldn’t Leeroy Jenkins his way onto Mandalore and that he would be bitter about it.  Obi-Wan has always understood the politics and how and when to get around them, for him to throw that out the window felt like, oh, well, of course, because it’s Satine.  The romantic relationship.  But it’s also coming on the heels of using his relationship with Anakin to be about Obitine vs Anidala, it’s coming on the heels of swiping aside Obi-Wan’s using the dark side/anger in both fights with Maul because of Qui-Gon. It comes with the context of the description of how--in the moments I’ve giffed above--that Obi-Wan was feeling a rage so powerful that he would raze everything to the ground for it, because Satine died, and what brings him back?  Not his Jedi values that he lives his entire life by, but that Satine wouldn’t want him to.  I don’t buy for one second that Obi-Wan wouldn’t pull himself back because he lives by the principles his Order has taught him. lacependragon said: 

I can’t with long words or descriptions but I bought this ebook just to read this story to keep up on this conversation and jfc I have never been so disappointed. I know 12 year old boys who understand Obi’s character better than this.

I get that sometimes people just have different interpretations of characters and I realize we all get invested in our views of them, as well as I feel like a lot of the elements of this story are close.  Like, I was so intrigued by the idea of Obi-Wan struggling with the dark side!  Because the dark side isn’t just anger, it’s also fear and sorrow and suffering!  It would have been SO EASY to explore those things, because they’re written all over his face! Further, it ignores so much of the bigger context of Obi-Wan’s character, like just how important those other relationships are and how they’ve shaped him.  Understands anger in a new way?  Different from his anger at Qui-Gon’s death?  Because, yes, he was sorrowful after he’d cut Maul in half, but when he did that?  He was FURIOUS, it was right there on his face, too. thebiscuiteternal said: 

Excuse me? Obi-Wan, who paced and *snarled* at Maul behind the energy gates after Qui-Gon was impaled? *That* Obi-Wan had never felt rage towards Maul until he killed Satine? Oh, fuck this story.

I KNOW, RIGHT?  I’m not even the biggest defender of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon’s relationship (though, of course it’s important) but the sheer DISRESPECT of saying that Obi-Wan understood anger in a new way after Satine died in pretty much THE EXACT SAME MANNER as Qui-Gon! And @watsonerr says something I’ve been struggling to articulate well on this reply:

Another thing I didn’t agree with was how Obi-Wan kept being angry at the council, considering how he not only is not the type to ignore the bigger picture, but also how he knows well that sending republic troops there to free everyone would be extremly risky, especially that they were at war and the republic and Mandalore had a treaty. Exactly why I’ll stick with the deleted scene from The Lawless in which he says “The policies of the jedi and the chancellor often don’t meet eye to eye these days.” But at the same time, I also think it was probably meant to be this way, because Obi-Wan was emotional and had a clouded judgement the whole chapter for obvious reasons, and he fell right into Maul’s trap. And that’s a nice parallel to Obi-Wan’s attitude in Old Friends Not Forgotten, where he knew better than to let emotions cloud his judgement.

I’d be more forgiving if the final ending weren’t, “I understand anger in a way I never have before.” which makes it seem like Obi-Wan’s anger at the council was objective and not part of him falling into the trap of attachment.  I’m still not sure I could buy bitterness from him or the lack of understanding the political ramifications, but I’d at least be able to sort of see it. I mean, this is what he says in that same story:  “Few in the bustling hangar took notice of Obi-Wan as he approached his Eta-2 Actis-class interceptor. Things would be different on Mandalore. The presence of a Jedi on a planet struggling to remain neutral in the war between the Republic and the Separatists would do more than attract attention. It might be considered an act of aggression. It might lead to further violence—more death.” This is his way of convincing Anakin not to come along:  ““The presence of one Jedi on Mandalore will be hard enough to conceal. Two Jedi will be impossible. You’d put the mission at risk. And Satine.”” Yet there’s no acknowledgement of that when he thinks about why they won’t agree to send him?  I don’t buy that from Obi-Wan Kenobi, even if he would ultimately disagree with them. Overall, we’re definitely making mountains out of molehills with this, it’s really not that big of a deal, both in terms of IT’S JUST A MADE UP SPACE WOO STORY and that it’s not as heinous as it might sound from the conversation.  I’ll reread it in a few days and maybe it’ll come across better for me, I could easily see that happening!  As well as I’m sure there are going to be plenty of people who see it as perfectly in character for Obi-Wan! BUT WHAT WOULD THIS HELLSITE BE IF NOT FOR RIDICULOUS NERDING OUT?  THAT’S WHAT TUMBLR IS FOR.   😂

[xxisxxisxxis]

Deleted Scene: Gateway Drug

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"Fool Me Once" -- [1987] 

I run a hand through my done-up hair, snagging it on hairsprayed strands, wincing. 

"Thank you for coming today, I know you're busy as busy can be but you made time for this, so, we appreciate it." Danielle tells me me as I sit down and she readies her notepad and pen, switching her recorder on to tape audio.

"No problem." I reply, glancing at Duff in the corner by the door. 

"I know this might be a little strange but I always like to start my interviews off with a icebreaker, if that's okay?" She offers. 

"No, that's fine." I tell her, getting more comfortable in my chair. 

"This philosophy we've been trying to pan out in some of our shoots is the difference between beautiful and sexy, and explore that notion and gauge if people even think there is a difference, so my question for you is: do you think there is a difference between 'sexy' and 'beautiful' and which would you rather be?" 

"Oh, my God, okay." I breathe out, laughing, and she joins me. 

"You said 'okay' so I asked." She reminds me and I nod. 

"Beautiful implies to more than just outward appearance, it applies to someone's soul and their spirit, their attitude, how they carry themselves, how they treat others, whereas 'sexy' literally means sexually exciting which is usually based on looks mostly." I point out. 

"Okay, and I also asked which you'd rather be--or which one you think you are." She rewords it. 

"You sure did, um…" I already know my answer, but don't want to make it seem like I want someone to tell me I'm pretty. "...I don't…" I sigh and she looks like she's dying to hear my answer, and so is Duff. "I'm pretty." I reply and she furrows her brows. "I mean, I think I'm decently pretty. I've been called beautiful before but I still have a lot to work on within myself before I feel comfortable with that. But I appreciate it when I'm called that." 

"And what about 'sexy'?" 

"Oh, no. I'm not." I say it matter of fact, and she looks stumped. 

"What?" 

"I mean, if I try I probably can be but just everyday I don't see myself as 'sexy'." 

Duff's laughter quickly erupts, and I look at him to see his hand on his mouth to stifle it before he clears his throat. 

"Sorry." He mumbles to Danielle when she looks back at him before turning back to me. 

"I assure you, Vivian, you are a very sexy, very beautiful woman." She promises. 

"Thank you." I smile shyly at her.

"Okay, I was wanting to talk about you a little bit because I feel like people know who you are but not much about you other than what's, I guess, painted on you in a certain way, so if you would tell me who Vivian Sixx is." She crosses her legs, brushing a hair from her eyes as she patiently awaits my answer. 

"Oh, gosh, nobody's asked me that, yet." I blurt, thinking for a moment as she brushes my comment off with a small giggle. "Um," Nikki Sixx's wife, maybe?, "to be honest I'm not sure." I chuckle out, rubbing my lips together. And she looks at me like she fucking pitties me. I force myself to save this close-call shitshow, giving Duff another look and he gives me an encouraging thumbs up as he mouths, "you got this." 

"I dance." I let out, and she raises her brows. "Ballet, not stripping." I clarify. "I have since I could walk." 

"You've never considered a professional career in it?" She asks me next. 

"I was going to but then plans changed and I put off school. But I do plan on going back and finishing at some point." I explain. 

"Did those plans involve your marriage?" She questions and I chuckle a little. 

"I got pregnant--or I thought I got pregnant. It wasn't until after we got married that I found out it was a false positive." I admit. "And I'm sure people are going to say that I was never pregnant, that I was just trying to trap Nikki in a marriage but that's bullcrap because nobody can 'trap' Nikki or make him do something he doesn't want to do, so..." 

"I can’t see him doing anything he doesn’t already want to do.” She agrees with a smile, glancing down at her notes before clearing her throat. “On the lines of Playboy, being that some of our executives saw you in the music video for ‘Girls, Girls, Girls’, you were voted ‘easiest on the eyes’ in this past weeks poll out of eighty-two other women.” She informs me and I raise my brows. “Does stuff like that flatter you or do you see it as misogynistic?”

“Well, um, firstly, I’m sure glad you said ‘on the eyes’ because I was about to ask you who started the survey and where do they live?” I reply and she laughs. “So, I’m glad it wasn’t what I thought it was going to be, but, um…” I lick my lips, letting out a breath. “...I don’t think it’s necessarily misogynistic so I don’t mind it, but I don’t really like the fact that there’s eighty-two other women at risk of feeling less-than now.” I admit. “I appreciate it, though. I’ll take it.”

“You don’t like competition?”

“I do but I’m pitted against women constantly in my personal life or the media tries to, at least, and it’s just stale at this point, you know? It’s stupid.” I rub my forehead.

“Are you referring to what’s recently happened with Vanity?” She blurts and I force myself not to be phased. “Do you have any comment on that particular situation?”

I look at Duff once again, screaming internally while faking a smile.

“It was honestly a misunderstanding.” I lie. “I know we’ve already said it was misunderstanding before but it truly was.”

“Have you spoken to Vanity since?”

“Yes.”

“So, you two are still on good terms, even though she told the world she was engaged to your husband?” She presses more and I brush red hair from my face, trying to keep my tears from growing in my eyes as I see Duff from the corner of my eye, looking at me sympathetically.

“I love her to death.” I say, honestly--even though I shouldn’t love her, I do. Even if she’s a part of the reason my heart broke, I still love her. Even if I’m not acknowledging her existence, I love her. “And I wish and pray nothing but the best for her.” I finish and she grins slightly, knowing she’s getting a good story.

"Is she a woman you've felt like you've needed to compete with?" She asks next, her words hitting me in the gut. 

"Subconsciously, maybe, but I've never gone out of my way to compete with her. I've never had to." 

"What about groupies?" She raises a brow. "Or do you care because you two have been married for a while?" 

"I'm sure a lot of women think, 'oh, I'm married to him so I've won', but I've seen guys take off their wedding rings before walking into a strip club or a bar and leave with three girls under each arm--a marriage doesn't solidify anything we think it does, it should but it doesn't so of course there's been moments where I've been pissed off about women doing everything they can to cross a line but, again, I don't wake up every morning and say, 'what do they have that I don't?' in comparison to groupies. They're termites: they swallow wood, ruin homes, and then it's on to the next." I say and she swallows uncomfortably. 

"Does that not contribute to society's stigmatic view on promiscuous women being 'sluts'?" She asks me. 

"Having sex with people doesn't make a woman, or a man, a slut. Pursuing a taken man or woman, knowing they are taken, makes a slut. Cheating on a significant other makes a slut." I state. 

"What about posing for Playboy while being in a relationship?" She counters. 

"Posing naked doesn't make someone a slut." I defend what I said earlier. 

"Just wanted your view on that since you come from a strict upbringing in the Christian faith, is all." She tells me. "Especially since your mother is bound to hear of all this and probably have plenty to say." 

"I haven't talked to my mother in years so if she has something to say but can't say it directly to my face, it's not worth hearing." I tell her. "My dad is the one I'm antsy about all this happening because of." I feel my skin prickle with nervousness because I never gave much of a thought to my dad seeing me on Playboy. 

"Do you have a good relationship with him?" She asks me, intrigued, and I nod. 

"Yes." I say. "I always will, he's the most important person in my life for sure."

"I think we all thought that'd be Nikki from the way we see you look at him in pictures and in passing." 

"Oh," I say it a little flat, a small inkling of a look coming to her face and before I plant any doubt in her mind, I add, "I'm still completely head-over-heels for him but my dad's always gonna be my number one." 

"Does he and your father get along or does your dad keep his distance, too?"

"No, no, he and my dad get along fine." I assure her. "He really keeps his distance out of respect for my mom, but lately he's been more involved, so...but, no, he doesn't have any problem with Nikki. He really appreciates him and all he's done for me, um, yeah, it's really a blessing they get along." 

At least he did. Before he found out Nikki had an entire mistress...on national television…along with the rest of the country. 

"That is very nice." She agrees. "And what about the other boys, do you get along with them as well?" She refers to Vince, Tommy and Mick. 

"Oh, yeah, absolutely." I rub my lips together.

"Is it true you and Tommy and Vince and our very own Tansy Lyn grew up together?" 

"Yes. I met Tommy in elementary school, and Vince and Tansy in middle school and we've been friends ever since." 

"What are they really like? Outrageous news reports, complaints from parents and the church, girls, parties, drugs and booze aside, what are they authentically like and how do you coincide with them and how has being alongside them from the start of their journey, to now, shaped you?" 

"They seem larger than life and it's hard to see them as anything but that, but I've seen them all be so overwhelmed indescribably with joy, and I've seen them all be completely broken and not know what to do, and I've seen them be piss poor and then have more money than God it seems, but they aren't these huge rockstars behind the scenes. They have diva moments, of course, but Tommy and Vince still act just like the boys they were when I first met them, and the same goes for Nikki and Mick. They act out for publicity, and everything in the press is obviously exaggerated but they're normal guys. They're honestly just regular, gross, messy, disgusting, perverted, immature stinking boys--talented, but still normal." I admit. "And I think the effect it's had on my life is just that I've had to mature faster than maybe I would have because it's like I have children. Like I'm constantly going and someone's going through a crisis whether it's Tommy one day or Vince the next, or whatever so keeping them out of trouble the best I can and then trying to be there and as present as I can be when they need me is stressful but it's rewarding. I like helping out where I can and they need all the help they can get so, it's really helped mature me a little more, I guess, is what I'm trying to say."

"I mentioned earlier their reputation within churches and religious groups and I'm curious as to know how you, as a Christian yourself, feel about songs like 'Shout at the Devil' which really got a rise out of politicians and church-goers everywhere, and most recently 'Wild Side'--which is a song that you are an accredited writer on--that's off of their 'Girls, Girls, Girls' album and is a mockery of the Lord's Prayer?" 

"First of all, to clear this up, I didn't write anything in 'Wild Side', Nikki asked what the Lord's Prayer was and I told him and his brilliant mind gave me a writing credit which will plague me the rest of my life, I suppose, but to answer your question...it's 'Shout at the Devil', not 'Shout with the Devil', therefor it doesn't bother me. Now, 'Wild Side' bothers me. A lot. But that's a way Nikki felt when writing it, and I'm not going to tell him those feelings aren't valid just because I don't feel the same way. That's not fair to him, and I'm certainly not ever going to tell him not to express himself and channel how he feels into his work because that's what makes music and art individual and unique. So, it doesn't matter how I feel. If it makes him happy and he's proud of it then that's that and if I don't like it or don't agree with it or find it insulting to my beliefs then I just, 'forgive him, God, he knows not what he does' and just get over it." 

"Do you think there will be a new 'Filthy Fifteen'?" 

"I would say Tipper Gore and her group of desperate, dry, housewives can go get screwed by other men because their husband's are clearly inadequate but then I suppose they can't find bigger pricks than who they're married to, so..." I blurt and she widens her eyes, a little smirk on her lips as she laughs. 

"I take it you weren't a fan of the censorship?" 

"The only plus side to censorship and stickering everything is that kids know what to play in front of their parents and what to save for themselves." I finish and she chuckles some more. 

I talked some more about marrying so young, what it was like being married to one of the biggest names in rock music at that time and so on, all while hiding the fact that once I left there, I was going to go back to the tour, sleep in a separate room than my husband, not talk to the friends I grew up with who were supposed to have my back, and be so completely miserable.

The moment Duff and I leave the room once I've said goodbye and thanked everyone who was apart of the process for my shoot, I feel lightheaded. 

"Viv?" Duff asks me, concerned, and I take deep breaths, bracing against the wall. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." I lie, nodding a little. "Just tired, I think." 

My voice cracks painfully and my tears are already beading at my lashline. 

"Viv, if you need a second--"

"--No, I'm fine. We gotta go." I deny, making myself walk again before he stops me. "Duff…" before I can argue, he's putting his bass down and pulling me to him, hugging me tightly. 

I give up, knowing that he knows me too damn well to buy my shit. 

I wrap my arms around him, burying my face in his chest, feeling my tears, hot against my cheek, soak into the fabric of his t-shirt as the warmth of his lips press comfortingly to my hair. 

[patheticwithanem]

2020 in Retrospect

Hey friend,

I know it’s late, but I HAVE TO DO THIS. I kind of promised myself I’m writing about the year that was. I’m not exactly sure why; maybe it’s to put things in perspective going in to 2021? And today’s my fourth year anniversary with my employer, so I guess it’s perfect timing? (More on that later)

So I was going through my notes (I have this habit of writing down what happens on a daily basis - be it activities, emotions, drama, name it) and one thing’s for sure. 2020 SUCKED. It did. But I’m committing to this no matter what!

First things first: lots of profanities along the way. Well actually, I was about halfway writing the letter when fucking Tumblr decided to refresh and delete what I’ve been writing for about one fucking hour now. So I have to fucking do it all over again. If this is the Lord telling me to stop being sentimental about 2020, fret not my Lord! I’m one stubborn son of a bitch, so I’m carrying on.

Here’s how the rest of the year unfolded. 2020. Let’s go.

JANUARY. Reunions?

January 1. Had a get-together with a few relatives in Malabon. It was fun! I used to be so allergic to family reunions but I guess age creeping in changes you? You value people even more now? This was also the last time we’re able to spend some time with my uncle from Singapore. He brought his family to spend the holidays here. He’s a sweetheart and a great father who’s missed.

January 9. I attended a college dormmate’s wedding. I remember contemplating whether to go or not only to realize I’m actually lucky to be even invited given the fact that I chose to be distant for them for a long while. I also told myself that not showing up is so far from what I’m trying to be. Although I wasn’t there for the whole thing, I’m glad I did come. I was able to bond with my roommates once again whom I treated like brothers ten years ago and that was nice. A not-so-close dormmate even introduced me to his boyfriend and that’s huuuuge. The bride was beautiful too, and I’m glad she’s in the best place right now after all she’s been through. She’s a strong one, that girl.

January 11. Got invited to a birthday pool party of a colleague at work. I have to say I’m actually quite surprised I was invited to this. She’s always had my back though and always kind of looked after me, so I had to go. It was fun but I didn’t get drunk AT ALL. 

January 12. AND THIS IS WHERE SHIT STARTED HAPPENING. The Taal Volcano erupted. It was awful especially for everyone living near the area because everything was covered with ash. It was also a day before my brother’s birthday and we thought the ashfall would be worse the next day so we decided to celebrate earlier. 

January 19. Went to a fiesta. Did not expect to survive that at all. It was a different kind of neighborhood, but the people were nice. 

January 25. Went to a public market with co-workers to buy clothes, eat chicken wings for dinner and then our regular fix of karaoke. Good times. 

Anything else? I was able to book a birthday trip to Yogyakarta, which I eventually canceled because of youknowwhat. Tragic.

February. Blindside!

February 7. Blindside’s a bitch. Yes, that’s what I had written on my notes. I legitimately felt blindsided. So story: I have a friend who I found out was pregnant (let’s call her Ms. Preggy, sorry) and me and her bestfriend (let’s call him Work Son because he was my work son in a lot of ways) decided to hold an intervention for her. The four of us including a friend I’m going to call The-Now-Bestie (kind of a spoiler) whom I had a misunderstanding and was not in speaking terms with will be coming to Work Son’s place. Essentially, the goal was to make Ms. Preggy open up about her pregnancy and her issues with the douchebag father; make her feel that she has us and she doesn’t need to be alone in this. I think it went well, in that regard. However, the whole thing was awkward in epic proportions. It’s as if me and The-Now-Bestie didn’t want to acknowledge each other’s existence, and when we didn’t have a choice, we were sarcastic to each other. I also really felt like an outsider among the four that time; like I wasn’t supposed to be there and wasn’t really contributing to anything. It was a really lonely feeling. I decided to distance myself to them after that.

February 13. WINNERS AT WAR PREMIERE! Words can’t even express how excited I was to see some of my heroes again on screen! Parvati with that “phoenix rising from the ashes” confessional? Damn, girl! Still a fucking legend! It was also nostalgic Yul working his godfather magic once again. I’ve always seen him as a top-tier winner and someone I looked up to for what he represented to the Asian community and the history of Survivor. It was also nice seeing Kim, Tyson, Tony, Sophie, Natalie and Sandra. But I must say I kind of missed Todd. He was my favorite winner and was a great storyteller, a great strategist and a great character with an amazing comeback story. He would’ve been perfect for a season with this caliber of players. And as much as I hate Jeff Probst for shoving him down our throats, I wanted to see Cochran play with these winners! Caramoan’s my first season (a late superfan, yes) and he’s the very reason I got so hooked with the show. I used to think it’s a game where people like me never win. So to see someone like Cochran who’s awkward in every sense of the word (and owning it) win Survivor, it is very inspiring. I like speaking in metaphors and it’s funny how much metaphorical Survivor can be to how I see life now. I see Cochran and if he can win in Survivor, I feel like I can win in life, as silly as that sounds. Cochran sucked his first season, but he then went on to play this dominant game his second try while still managing to be the adorkable underdog that he is. I love that story. Man, I get so worked up when I talk about Survivor! I wish I had that same passion with anything else.

February 19. Mom slipped and had to be rushed to the nearest ER. Good thing there were no fractures and she was fine. I guess we can thank the fats for that? LOL

February 21 ‘til 23. WEEKEND STAYCATION! I needed this! Drinking at the hotel taproom with a live band? YES! Indian for lunch and surf-and-turf buffet for dinner? YES YES YES! That lamb chops, MY LORD. Thank you.

February 29. Leap Day. I started journaling again. 

March. FUCKING COVID.

March 16. The Start of the Lockdown we all come to love now (punk, sarcasm). 

March 17. Politics is so taboo to discuss especially over dinner. But then BAM. I had a major fight with my dad (and by major, I mean MAJOR in a get-out-of-the-house-in-the-middle-of-the-pandemic kind of major). It was basically about a comment he made that’s so misogynistic (towards the Vice President) that I just knew I can’t just let go. It was sooo bad I got all pissed, and when I’m pissed, I can get scary. Maybe it’s the voice or the eyes or both, but the fight got really heated on the verge of getting physical. Which now that I think about it is stupid just because of fucking different political views. Well, I can never get behind the President and they’re huge fans of him and I’ve come to terms with that but it’s just... bleh. I’m not even gonna try to rationalize it because I can’t. It’s just.. disgusting. Oh fucking well. 

April. Wander-fucking-lust.

April 1. I started a 30-day Financial Detox which basically meant no unnecessary expenses. No online shopping, no paying for leisure. None. It was April Fools, but I was dead-set on saving! (Spoiler alert: I failed.)

April 6. Meltdown. I just really couldn’t hold it in anymore.

April 11. Dad’s birthday. After not talking for over a month (which is no easy feat in a tiny condominium unit), we acknowledged each other’s presence. By April 15, it’s like nothing happened anymore. He even gave me a home haircut (which for a beginner, is pretty good). On other news, I started watching The Politician on Netflix and t’was the day I started obsessing on Ben Platt and his music. 

April 16. A year ago, I was enjoying sidewalk pho and almost making friends at Cu Chi Tunnels and the Saigon Skydeck of the Bitexco Financial Tower in Ho Chi Minh. Damn, covid.

April 18. That crazy border-crossing from Saigon to Phnom Penh a year ago. That was fulfilling. Damn, covid.

April 19. A year ago, I was experiencing sunrise at Angkor Wat. Wander-fucking-lust UGH. 

April 30. That Town Hall shoutout from our company’s President because of reaching my quota from last month. That really felt good. As much as I hate to admit it, I like being validated from time to time. It definitely meant a lot especially coming from her who took a chance on me. I was patting my back.

MAY. Endure. Let Go. 

May 14. KING TONY WON. Very well-deserved win. A disappointment of a season if you ask me, but props to the king for dominating an all-winners season. Respect for that. Also Natalie and Michele played great games as well and they should be very proud of themselves. I feel like a proud father to these winners HAHAHA!

May 16. Was pleasantly surprised with Dead to Me. That car scene between Jen and Judy on that ninth episode from the second season? Damn. That’s one of the few moments I teared up because of a TV show. That was powerful. All that tension building up and then that sudden release? I really felt that.

May 26. Why do I always feel all this fucking rage inside of me? I try to think of any triggers but I can’t seem to find one that’s actually reasonable. It’s like the isolation getting the best of me. I initially thought quarantine’s going to be a cakewalk for an introvert like myself, but it wasn’t the case. I feel like I’m losing my shit because I was stripped off of the usual things I have access to whenever I feel uneasy and anxious and angry like this. Endure, let go, I know. But it’s so much easier said than done, right?

JUNE. Breathe.

June 12. So the plan to sell the condo and find a new place is real. We went to this great place in Valenzuela and it was a great house and all but I felt weird. Maybe I was having trouble letting go? Maybe it’s just me being averse to change yet again?

June 15. Slept 6am for that How To Get Away With Murder series finale. That speech. VIOLA. Chills all over my body. 

June 18. New phone was delivered. That was fast.

June 27. First time visiting the village we moved to. We were checking a different house this time and was already picturing us living there. Still felt weird, but maybe less.

Looking at it now, I realize almost nothing happened in this stretch of months. Pathetic.

JULY. Change (that’s not necessarily good lol)

July 3. The Anti-Terrorism Bill signed. FUCK THE CIRCUS THAT IS THE PHILIPPINE GOVERNMENT. 

July 10. Doomsday. The ABS-CBN renewal disapproved. FUCK THE CIRCUS THAT IS THE PHILIPPINE GOVERNMENT. Also, that first house we checked was bought this day. First heartbreak.

July 22. Decided to donate to one of my elementary teachers to help finance school supplies for his students in the province. That felt good. 

July 24. folklore’s goooood. This is the Taylor Swift sound that I love. (I had to write that down because that was a 2020 highlight to be honest)

AUGUST. Getting older. Again.

August 2. Donated to another cause: to help a really close friend’s mom (who’s a school principal) on financing their students’ lesson modules (they needed more paper so the donation was going to be used to buy more paper). That felt good.

August 3. Started obsessing on Dear Evan Hansen. I mean come on. HOW COME I ONLY KNEW OF THIS NOW?!?! The story, the acting, the soundtrack... it felt like I asked the Lord for a musical for me and he gave this on a silver platter. 

August 9. Lasagna, baked sushi, lechon belly, pansit, cake. Weird combination, I know, but that’s me!

August 11. Discovered the Slowly app. Changed my life since then! I’m not even exaggerating. I guess it has to do with feeling extremely lonely amid the pandemic and getting this platform where you can talk to literally anyone while still keeping your anonymity. And it strips you off of instant gratification you’re so used to because you actually have to wait for your letters to be sent and to arrive. A great exercise for patience if you ask me! And since you have to wait, you make your letters longer and more worthwhile. It’s a platform free of judgment which relies heavily on building actual mental and emotional connections. It’s a gift, truly. NOT EXAGGERATING; YES I’M THAT LONELY.

August 23. The house search continued. This time, the South!

August 24. It was my first time watching a Korean drama and I gotta say I get the hype now. Korea makes great stories and they take their time when telling these stories. The story centering about mental health was definitely what got me to try watching It’s Okay to Not Be Okay, but the show’s so much more than that. That was a great watch.

SEPTEMBER. Finally some light?

September 1. Second year anniversary. I still really miss her.

September 5. My cat’s 5th birthday! Of course we had to celebrate for her with baked macaroni and burnt cheesecake. 

September 11. Lost uncle. He gave a good fight. 

September 19. SENSE8. It’s a show that doesn’t need any explaining. It’s the BEST. I love this cast SO MUCH. I remember thinking if I ever get a tattoo (which is unlikely), I’ll maybe have the title of that Sense8 series finale inked on me. AMOR VINCIT OMNIA. Love conquers all. 

September 27. After a series of unfortunate events, we were led to this house on the same village we keep going back to, and the moment we saw it, we were sold. This is going to be our house. And it happened.

OCTOBER. Surprises?

October 6. Hooked up with someone I probably shouldn’t.

October 12. Booked a trip for next year because I’M HOPEFUL AS FUCK.

October 21. Had the best conversation I had in a long time. 

October 22. Hooked up with someone I probably shouldn’t. 

October 28. Organized a digital event for work. I’m still on the fence whether I’m proud of it or not. It was my first event, and I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. While I enjoyed all the preparation that came with it, from making that tactical marketing plan to coordinating with the organizers and my team, I felt like it was bland. There were lapses here and there and I know that we all tried the best we could, but maybe I just pictured it a little better in my mind? It wasn’t a flawless event and maybe I wanted it to be flawless. But it was fun. I never would’ve imagined me hosting an event, but I did. 

NOVEMBER. Decisions.

November 14. So news came and we’re finally moving. The buyer of the condo got approved and it was only a matter of weeks to settle documents and payment and we’re good to go. I had mixed feelings about it. It took me back to that time we started looking for houses. I wasn’t exactly ready to let go of the place I grew with for the past five years. And I wasn’t also ready to let go of the convenience, and the relationships I only have started building with friends I found along the way. But at that moment I knew I had to be happy because they were happy. My family was happy. I knew I have to be happy.

November 21. Started all the packing. Packing meant decluttering and reminiscing, so letting go of more things which was overwhelming at first, but inevitable. 

November 23. I had something checked in the hospital, and something happened and it wasn’t supposed to go that way but it did and it was so fucking bizarre lol

November 28. HAPPY MOVING DAY. It’s that day of the year. Stress was off the charts because of the time constraint and frankly, the lack of preparedness. Good thing a few people helped us with the rest of the packing. It was an impossible task for me and my sister alone so we were glad we got all the help we needed. I did most of the heavy lifting, so I had bruises all over my body for weeks, but after all was said and done, it felt surreal. Felt like everything coming full circle. That first night in the new home? I’ll never forget that. That was special.

December. The end of an era.

December 2. I went back to the condo to stay for a few more days. Get to feel the place one last time. Also lost a huge deal at work to a competitor. I usually really get depressed with these losses, but for some reason I felt indifferent about it. I guess it was my mind telling me I’ve mentally checked out of work already? That maybe it is really time to move on to something that’ll make me care about what I do again? Make me feel again?

December 4. Met someone (who we can call the Professor) I’ve been talking to for a while now. We’ve had some really great conversations leading to this night; talks at 3AM that’s kind of liberating? I was upfront about the moving and that I only have a few days left in the place which is probably why it happened. Professor was also upfront about leaving the country in a few months for an opportunity to work and do research in Japan for five fucking years. It was awkward at first; but we eventually warmed up to each other and spent the night together. 

December 5. Things escalated pretty quickly. The Professor gave me a shower (that was weird but I was feeling it and I thought it was sweet and sexy?). We cuddled until we slept and there was breakfast prepared when I woke up. I don’t usually get to experience this kind of stuff so I really appreciated that. I was feeling it. I thought I can get used to this! I left the place and was invited back again so I stayed over for another night. We’ve had a few more interesting conversations. I was not expecting some of the things we discussed especially the talk about long-distance relationships. The Professor asked me what I think about it and I was honest; I’m not against it but it’s not something I’ll take a chance on if I wasn’t sure about it. Mantra’s always been connection first before commitment. I’m not the “take a leap of faith” kind-of guy; I needed to be sure. Or at the very least be really mentally and emotionally connected with the person. I thought that made perfect sense. I still do.

December 6. So it was finally goodbye. Me and my sister went to the nearest church to donate a few clothes and shoes and to attend a mass. Bid farewell to the Professor too and promised each other to keep in touch. I also had an awkward encounter with my sister’s “friend” who she sneaked in the condo for God knows what for. Pretty sure they did the nasty.

December 13. We went to our old house (the one I spent my younger years in) to get a few stuff for the new house. I only really wanted to get my old bicycle because I want to be biking regularly for the next year. I want to take that fitness journey seriously! So I got the bike and I got to spend some time with some childhood friends. Good stuff.

December 15. A teammate resigned at work. The funny thing is he did it after getting that 13th month bonus HAHAHA! I can’t blame him though after learning about the salary he gets when he’s performing three functions in the team. That’s insane. But it really made me wonder: am I still in this for the long haul? Or do I move on too?

December 17. So I had my work desk and wardrobe delivered. Felt so nice buying things for my room! 

December 19. We got a new dog! Another French Bulldog. He’s pretty sweet. Someone’s not happy! (MY MOM)

December 22. And then this happened. We were supposed to meet after my dentist appointment (which I only used as an excuse to meet and I thought that was obvious) but the Professor never showed up. I waited for FIVE FREAKIN HOURS. I had like clothes with me because we agreed I sleepover but FUCK. Good thing a friend kept me company, but that was horrible. I thought YOU NEVER DO THAT TO ANYONE. I deserve better.

December 24. We had our house blessed. It was all super spontaneous; we invited a few friends and relatives over and had an intimate gathering. Mom got emotional (AGAIN).

December 27. So Ms. Preggy (from February - oooh that rhymed) had her son baptized. Since she lives a little father from the city, we decided to have a little staycation with some friends there too. The-Now-Bestie and Work Son was there, and we had beer and homecooked food and a slew of great conversations to cap off the year. 

Also December 27. I knew I needed to get something off my chest. And I just had to say it. 

“You’re so unfair. You shouldn’t have done that. Gave me false hopes. Gave me a “3-day trial period” only to disappear without any warning. Made promises you never intended to keep. You could’ve just told me you’re not interested anymore and I would’ve been fine with that but instead, you ghosted me. For the past few weeks since that weekend, it never seemed like you wanted to get to know me better. Or even just keep the communication going. It’s been one-sided and I wonder: has it always been this way? Maybe I’m remembering things differently. I told you I like you and I meant that. I’m still wrapping around my head why and how it happened to be honest. Maybe it’s that weekend? Maybe it’s the conversations leading up to when we first met? I don’t know. But things changed after that and I should ask you for an explanation but it’s really not the point. The point is I thought we can work something out and you hurt me. You may feel like you’re running out of time because of Japan but it’s no excuse to do that to anyone, really. You seem so sure about what you want so I hope you get whatever that is. Merry Christmas. Thanks for the memories.”

That was intense.

December 28. The Professor responded. “I apologize... I am getting attached... I had to “ponder on its implications to me in the long run”... I decided to slow down... It hurts... “That weekend that we met felt like I knew you before”... I am afraid... “You have no idea how hard it is to leave everything behind every 4-5 fucking years not because I wanted it but because I have to”... I still hope to continue whatever we have... “I will always remember you. Please don’t forget about me.”... YADA YADA YADA. 

I know. You know me. I try to empathize as much as possible. But I mean, come on. These are things I already know. It’s not what I needed to hear.

December 31. I needed to say something one last time. There’s already a lot of uncertainties in the world with COVID and life and everything else. I knew I needed answers; I want the binary. I want the black or white for this one. I’m not taking the gray with me next year. So I asked the following questions:

“What do you want from me? Do you want to be friends? Or we stick with occasional catching up on Viber every once in a while (because that’s what it sounds like to me)?”

“What do you want to get from your last two months here? What are you looking for? Just make the most “fun’? Or look for something that will stick?”

“Have you told me anything you really didn’t mean?”

“That one time we talked about long-distance, were you asking me?”

Fast forward to now: I never got the answer I needed. I guess this is one of those rare occasions where no answer is the answer. And after a few weeks of contemplating about it, I am leaving it behind in 2020. 

I’m actually at peace with that.

So there you have it. The suck-fest that is 2020. The first month of the new year wasn’t so bad. I feel this great energy. This year’s going to be different. I did tell you that this letter’s perfect timing. That’s because I’ve resigned and I’m moving on. A friend told me a while ago that he’s proud of me for finally taking action. The 2018 version of myself wouldn’t have done what I did and he was happy for me. I wanted a clean slate and I took it. That I was finally taking ownership of my life. 

I was elated. My friend usually spoils me with compliments and encouragement and my ever reliable negative self-image tend to disagree with him but for the first time in a very long time, it felt right. I’m not usually excited for New Years, but I guess I am?

I say bring it on, 2021.

Until then,

Patheticwithanem

[dodger-sister]

Disclaimer: I stopped watching mid S9 & only just came back for this last run of episodes, post-the-Covid-break. So I’m not well versed in the current mythology, though I gather Becky says there will be two endings.  Ever since the end of Despair (s15e18), I’ve had this visual in my head of an ending.  I’m not quite sure how to get there, since again, I’m not up on current mythology.  But I wanted to write this down for myself.  It's not a Dean/Cas romance ending, but a friendship ending, and a good ending for everybody and yeah, kinda Dean heavy, but I know what I'm about, idk. But I just had a visual and for the first time in what feels like 1,000 years, I had something in my head that I had to get out through writing, and once again it's SPN, so like...here’s what I’m picturing:

First of all, Jack defeats Chuck.  But it drains all his power and leaves him powerless & more or less human.  Idk who becomes God then…Amara?  Michael? No one?  But when Chuck is defeated, everyone comes back – all the people Chuck deleted, all the Apocalypse World people, all the people like Eileen who died & came back.  Everyone.  And The Empty, as a gift to the boys for ending this nonsense, spits Castiel back out – (as a writer, I know it was actually a good ending for Cas, his pure happiness, but as a fan I won’t stand for it to end that way).  Then angels & demons are suddenly sucked back up into Heaven & Hell, to put things right.  As this happens, Dean turns wild-eyed to Castiel, thinking he’s being taken…but he doesn’t go.  He stays. And it’s in that moment they realize he is human now, blessed to be part of the humanity he loves now. (From this point on Cas’ outfits consist of button-up shirts with the top 2 buttons undone, black slacks, no tie & no trenchcoat). And then somehow we find out – if Amaara is God or whatever, she gives them the 411 -- that angels & demons are on lockdown and unable to return to Earth.  “At least for a millennium or so.  But that doesn’t mean there aren’t still things that go bump in the night, boys.” (Also, idk enough about what’s up with Adam, but pls insert your own happy ending in here for that boy, he fucking deserves it, the poor kid).

Then, for some reason – idk, maybe when they came back all the people in the world realized something had happened, things don’t just pick right up where they left off, everyone is a little dazed – a bunch of people are at the bunker with the boys, Apoca-World people & stuff.  And there’s kind of this montage, with a score, maybe a folk-rock song, idk, but like people slowly getting their bearings and heading out; the family with the two daughters, bags slung over their shoulders, shaking the boys’ hands in thanks and then heading up the stairs /fade them out to the next scene/ Sam & Eileen sweetly kissing /fade them out to the next scene/ Jody & Donna & the girls hugging the boys goodbye, heading up the stairs /fade them out to the next scene/ Dean setting a burger down in front of Cas, who smiles softly because there are some things he missed about being human /fade them out to the next scene/ Garth saying goodbye to the boys, heading up the stairs /fade them out to the next scene/ Sam & Eileen having amazingly hot sex /fade them out to the next scene/ Jack trying out his powers on a houseplant, nothing happens, he nods, accepting this is permanent /fade them out to the next scene/ Charlie & Stevie, with one of those great Dean-&-Charlie hugs where he cradles her head, omg /fade them out to the next scene/ Sam & Eileen in bed together, facing each other, hands pressed palm to palm, fingers interlocked, gazing loving at each other /fade them out to the last person/ Bobby gets a hug from Sam & then Dean, Cas goes to shake his hand and Bobby gives him a gruff look and then pulls him in for a back-slap hug.  “You boys stay in touch.”  Sam’s all, “Always, Bobby.”

Then all that’s left is the four guys + Eileen.  Sam says to Dean, “I’m gonna take Eileen home, get her settled.  I’ll be back in a few days.”

Dean says, “Or you could stay, you know?”  He looks like it’s hard to say, but he’s also happy for Sam.  “It’s not that far.” (Is it, idk, where does she live?)

Sam’s all, “You mean, like move in with her?  Naw, man, naw.  We aren’t there yet.”

Dean goes, “That’s not how it’s seemed this last week around here,” with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Sam blushes, so soft, a soft baby.  “No, Dean.  I mean…we aren’t there, *yet*.”

“Attaboy,” with a slap on the arm.

Then we get Dean hugging Eileen goodbye, she and Sam head up the stairs, Dean turns to Cas & Jack at the table. Cas stands up awkwardly, says, “I suppose I should consider getting a place of my own.  Humans do that, yes?”

Dean goes, “What? No. Are you kidding me? Sam’s gonna be spending a lot of time – and I mean a *lot* of time /suggestive tone/ with Eileen.  You’re not gonna leave me to clunk around this place on my own.”  Then he pauses, can’t quite meet Cas’ eyes, so not good with emotions that he knows what Cas said before The Empty took him but Dean can’t quite acknowledge it.  “Unless, like, that’s something you need.  For yourself, I mean. To not be here. If you wanna move out…”

Cas, firm and sure, “I do not.”

Dean looks up, a smile of relief on his face, “Well, alright then.”

Then Dean turns to Jack.  “What about you?  You gonna try to bail out on us?”

Jack, confused, says, “No, not at all.”

Dean asks, “Then what’s your plan? One day at a time?”

“Actually,” Jack says, and slides a pamphlet over that’s been sitting with a stack of papers on the table, “I hadn’t had time to give it much thought, but I was thinking this.”

Dean picks it up.  It’s a college pamphlet. “College, huh?  Following in Sam’s footsteps?”

“*Community* college,” Jack emphasis.  “So I could live here &, idk, try it out.  See what I want to do next.  The pamphlet says there are many options ahead of me.”

Dean gives Jack his patented half-smirk/half-smile.  “Alright, we can work with that.  What do you need?” He reaches in his back pocket for his wallet.  “Money for books?  A credit card?” He may have taken a while to get onboard the Jack-train, but he’s there now, proud Uncle Dean.  

“I think I’ll need a birth certificate and a, uh,” he glances at a list he’s been making on a piece of paper, “a social security number?”

Dean nods.  “Okay.  I can take care of that. I know a guy.”

He’s happy with both Cas’ and Jack’s answers.

/fade out to the next scene, scores starts back up, idk maybe we use a rock song here?/

There are a few wide shots of regular people going on about their lives, animals in the fields, people walking the streets, life going on, etc.  Then we start to see all the people we know who are still alive, living their lives…Garth, Charlie & Stevie being happy and domestic, Jody & Donna & the girls, Bobby, other people idk, Jack walking onto campus with a backpack over his shoulder & smiling on his first day of college, Sam and Eileen cooking in her kitchen & cute-kissing & being adorably cute together like so smushy cute.

/fade into  the next scene/ Cas is at the kitchen table researching, Dean walks in and heads to the fridge.

He asks, “You got anything, Cas?”

Cas says, “I think there is a nest of vampires in ***insert place*** and a poltergeist in ***insert place***.  You could probably take care of one and hit the other on your way back.  And for your pleasure, you will pass by ***something like the world’s largest ball of string***.”

Dean grins, thrilled about the cheesy tourist trap idea, “Oh, I’m down with that.  You in?”

Cas gives his doubtful face.  “It’s Jack’s first week of school.”

Dean nods, “Say no more.  I’ll call Sammy.”

/Final scene – music starts, Ramble On by Led Zeppelin/

Dean is standing outside Eileen’s apartment, at the back of the Impala, with the trunk open.  Sam comes out with a duffel, tosses it in the trunk among the other weapons.  We see the classic shot from the trunk POV of the two boys.  Sam smiles, content, ready.  “We got work to do.”  The trunk slams shut.  We see the boys get in the Impala, shut their doors at exactly the same time.  The view is from the back of the car as it revs up and starts off down the road.

Ramble On plays as we watch the Impala drive off until we can no longer see it.

Cut to credit screen that reads – “Carry on, my wayward sons & daughters.  Thank you for 15 years of memories.”  - Love, Eric, Jensen, Jared, Misha and the entire SPN cast & crew.

Boom, bam, credits roll.

(Sorry, I can’t for the life of me figure out a Read More break)

[notalittlebutalottie]

Writing Reflection: Against the Cards {Klaroline}

Thinking about Against the Cards + Against the World and I can’t believe I even finished it... I know some people really like it, but I have so many negative associations with that story and I thought since it’s been two years since I finished the original AtC and a few months since AtW was wrapped up, I would discuss it.

How did I come to write it?

The first time I wrote it, I was in my first semester of university, lying in bed. I’m not sure how I came up with it, but I remember writing that first line ‘She could not help it. She just could not fucking help it. That bitch’ and going from there. I just wanted to write a story where Caroline had had enough of people telling her how she should feel and dealt with her resentment towards Elena. It was originally intended as a one-shot, but it spiralled and ended up a full story. I think my biggest goal with it was to just actually finish a WIP for once!

Which do I prefer? Against the Cards or Against the World?

Against the World will always win for me. Though I’m happy with certain aspects of Against the Cards, the sequel is something I can view more positively. Here’s why: the quality of writing is better in both narration and dialogue; the tone of the story is a lot more mature; it addresses Klaus’ faults as well as Caroline’s; and I think the ‘smut’ scene is both better quality-wise and in terms of its attributions to the story as a whole.

Why do I have negative associations with the story?

Back when I first published it, I liked it! However, as time has passed, I’ve felt a lot of negative emotions towards it. I don’t think the writing was as polished in AtC regarding grammar, dialogue, and certain areas of narration. AtC is the first story I completed for this fandom, so I felt a lot of pressure from the reviews that expected things to happen in the way that they wanted. AtC is home to my first ever smut scene but it is my least favourite piece of writing I have done thus far. After I finished it, I received a very mean review that called the fic ‘fucking stupid’ and likened Caroline to a doormat. I can joke about it now and I literally memed it last month(?) but it was so shit at the time. Personally, I think they were pissed because they got to the end of AtC and KC didn’t end up together, but the fic wasn’t about their romance, it was about Caroline’s personal growth. Yes, Caroline was insecure and bent to the will’s of others but...welcome to the conflict of the ENTIRE freaking story.

The largest negative association with AtW that I have is that I began it following a terribly long hiatus, I was on the brink of deleting all of my work and my tumblr, and I was getting a couple reviews at most. Some of the reviews left me feeling shit because on one hand, people were telling me ‘Caroline should get over it! They weren’t together because of her therefore she has no right to be angry that he slept with Hayley’ but then other reviews were saying ‘Klaus sucks. I don’t want them to be together’. And none of these reviews acknowledged my writing and the work I had done. Looking back, I’m glad I didn’t try to change things for those reviews because it was an adult conflict; no single party was right or wrong and that’s how it works in real life. I was at an impasse with this story and finishing it was such a difficult mountain to climb. I’m proud of myself for finishing it, but it wasn’t an easy task.

The issue of smut

I thought this deserved it’s own little section because there are two smut scenes in the whole of this story and they are my least favourite and most interesting respectively. When I began AtC, KC’s first sexual encounter is not fully described, it’s just alluded to so it’s not really ‘smut’. And not to fault said reviewer (as this was a minor part of their larger comment), but someone commented their disappointment in not getting smut. This left me feeling a little pressured, that for people to really love the story, I had to write smut, which I had never done before, and so the smut scene I wrote for chapter 7 was incredibly forced and is uncomfortable for me to look back on. Objectively, it’s not terrible, but I was 20 years old and I didn’t really know myself sexually so how was I supposed to write something like that?

In contrast, AtW has a rather short smut scene in chapter 2 (chapter 16 on AO3) and I find it MUCH better. It was my third time writing smut, second being taken by Sing Me Sweet Nothings, but I just felt like it was much more realistic and just mature. The context of the scene is that KC are arguing over Klaus sleeping with Hayley until they reach this very high point of tension and they have sex. The reason why I like it so much is that it’s raw, emotional, and honest. It’s not meant to be arousing and overtly sexual, it’s meant to represent their conflicted feelings. They’ve been through so much and it feels like there’s always an obstacle, and they’re angry with each other and themselves so they know this isn’t the best circumstance to have sex under, but they want each other so badly.

What do I like about the story?

I love the ending of AtC! It was exactly what needed to happen and no one can convince me otherwise. I love Caroline’s personal growth from the beginning to the end! I like Elena’s characterisation for the most part and how she is referenced in AtW (because at the end of the day, it was never really about her). I like Hayley’s characterisation because she’s not just some mega-bitch out to cause havoc in KC land, she’s just living her life and she’s not suddenly being like “heeeeey bestie” to Caroline after the conflict ends. I adore the kitchen scene in chapter 1 of AtC; I think the tension is wonderful! There’s a substantial amount of dialogue I do love in AtC! And lastly, I love that I finished it! 😂 I see it as a personal triumph.

So there you have it! I hope you enjoyed this rambling of mine. I know I might come off as harsh, but I wanted to be honest in my reflection. I thank you for reading this if you have made it to the bottom and I thank you for reading the story. - Lottie

Never read Against the Cards + Against the World? Read it [here]!

[dorminchu]

Misnomer

Fandom: James Bond Genre: Drama/Humor Characters: Lyutsifer Safin, Madeleine Swann Rating: PG/K+ Warnings: None, really. Summary: "On the train to Oslo, Madeleine is feeling pretty restless; Safin does his best to be charitable." 

Takes place right after Chapter Five of Insult to Injury. This was cute to write but a bit too directionless to keep in. (Besides, I don't think Safin would throw out a name in front of people he doesn't recognize!) So I've made another deleted scene-fic.

"It's curious. I really don't know one thing about you."

"It's not your job to know."

"Well, perhaps your name would be a good start."

"I've already given you a name." She scowled at him. He said, "What more do you need?"

Madeleine scoffed and feigned interest in the window. Time was spent in the wordlessness that comes out of having a million urgent questions but no good way to disguise one's true intent. The smooth chug of the train had a strange, somnambulant quality. Safin could not allow himself to be affected. He scanned the aisles for any visual change but found none.

"Wait, don't tell me—are you seriously implying that you have one name?" Madeleine smirked. "Is this how you sign all of your sanctions, just, Safin?"

"If it helps you sleep, yes."

"Hah." She glanced out the window again. "You are impossible."

She went quiet after that. The man in the aisle behind them had not moved an inch. There was a good enough chance he was listening. Madeleine glanced up from the window as though trying to divine what else had his attention besides the latent threat. Safin did not acknowledge this in the hopes she would finally settle.

She said, "Well it isn't very good for a secret identity. You would stand out more with one name."

She wouldn't be able to keep her wits about her if she wore herself down. Perhaps it would be more prudent to simply let Madeleine talk herself into a state of exhaustion, all the while letting her think she was saying more than she was. Prudent, but not easier. For all intents and purposes it was as though she were drunk again. When No 1 first gave him the assignment to protect No 8's most valuable investment, this was not what he had been imagining.

"What makes you think I'm going to tell you anything?" he asked tersely.

"I never said you would."

Safin came back to the point of contention. There was no sense in getting hung-up over her curiosity. He had brought that trouble upon himself from the moment he had decided to engage with her directly. Killing her was a last resort and completely out of the question right now. If he wanted to save face he should be doing everything he could to earn her trust—he had already identified the vulnerabilities. He would turn the oversight to his advantage.

"Lyutsifer," he said after a pause. He did not look up from the general direction of the man in the aisle. There was no immediate reaction from either party.

Then Madeleine proved him wrong again: "Sorry?"

"Lyutsifer Safin."

"Yes, and I am sure you've gone by Beelzebub as well."

"Do you even know what it means?"

"Light bringer." Madeleine looked rather patronised. "If you want to be technical, it would be "bringing light", derived from the Latin lux, 'light' and ferre, 'to bring'." He shot her a glance out of the corner of his eye.

"And?"

Madeleine frowned slightly, trying to dredge up something she had memorised for the sake of camouflage and not thought about in a few years. "The name originally referred to the morning star, Venus. It only became associated with Satan because of other literature, such as the Divine Comedy by Dante and Paradise Lost by John Milton. The idea also underlies the proverbial phrase 'as proud as Lucifer.'"

"I can see your time at Oxford was well-spent."

The look of indignation on her face was almost worth the effort expended prodding at her brain. "In case you have forgotten, I am working off of..."

She trailed off. At last, Safin thought, she was going to take the hint. He returned his attention to the train-car door and ran through the itinerary one more time. Roughly five hours left from here to their destination. With any luck there would be no complications. If Madeleine were out of the picture for a little while he could perhaps afford to get up and start a conversation with their tracker. But if the situation necessitated, well, he was armed and he was confident she would be ready to deal with that possibility.

"Three!" Madeleine said, snapping him halfway out of thought. He did not give her his full attention but he tensed somewhat. "Three hours of sleep, no thanks to you. So if you didn't want the history lesson, do not ask for clarification next time."

He shrugged. "It makes no difference to me what you talk about, as long as you don't make my job any more difficult." He glanced over at her. "Which you haven't."

She blinked slowly. Then she seemed to remember she was supposed to be disgruntled. "Well, I would be happy to sleep if I felt it would be safer in any way."

"You don't feel safe?" She was still glowering at him. "Well," he muttered, "I don't blame you." Safin held his tongue, waiting for the tension to abate. It did not, and so he said, "You didn't even ask what my surname meant."

"I thought you wanted me to go to sleep," she hissed.

"Yes. But we have established that you don't feel safe around me." He held her gaze, very cold.

"I never said it was around you."

"Hm?"

Her shoulders stiffened, her jaw went tight. "But you have already done enough to make me think I should reconsider telling you more than I have."

"I see."

She looked like she wanted to argue but she was too tired to do much else. She slumped back in her seat.

[chyme-out]

Vrains, and what it means to ‘Ai’; because it’s not just a human condition

Ah.

Yusaku’s face kills me after Ai’s fateful play. There’s nothing...victorious about it, and you know, the moment the screen shows his face, and the way his expression flinches into something almost terrified, that Ai’s lost. Because while Yusaku does express shock in his duels, there’s usually something a little angry-looking or ‘firm’ about it. There’s none of that now. He certainly isn’t flinching for himself.

But he’s a duelist. He’s listened to Ai’s story. He has people to save; some of them he cares about, and others probably not so much. And none so much as this being standing before him, who’s trapped him into a duel where there was never any chance of him saving the one he declared, so passionately he was going to, the start of the season:

Unfortunately, he’s not Yuma. And there’s no magic in this Yu-Gi-Oh universe, no reality-shaping card that can restore the dead. (Unless of course, the reason Yuskau finally logs back into Vrains at the end of the series is because he’s on a quest to do the impossible and do just that for Ai, but it’s not exactly clear. I would be interested to see his reactions to some of the human characters though as I imagine they’d have mixed feelings about him attempting to restore Ai. A few may even attempt to stop him which...would not go down well.)

Poor Yusaku. He’s stuck in a rather dark series; dark in the sense that compromise between the Ignis and humanity was never in the cards. The main question Vrains seemed to push forward was ‘is it possible for AI with free will and humans to co-exist?’ And the end seems to say, ‘no, no it isn’t. Not unless you put limits on the AI in question.’

No one put a limit on Ai’s love for Yusaku. And all the Ignis, even the ones who genuinely sought a peaceful solution, ended up dead, because (a) no one could put a ‘limit’ on Lightning (though interestingly, he put a limit on himself, the moment he decided on the path he took) and (b) there was no limit to humanity’s greed and self-absorption, things which shaped the nature of Earth’s death and Yusaku’s simulated one as well.

The only AI who benfited from the series in the end was Pandor, who exists really, for less than a hot minute, and while she is an interesting being, she still lacks a spark of ‘something’ that made the Ignis so unique. And who will never, despite what she says, attain true free will, not so long as Revolver’s hold on her programming remains firm.

Vrains, I give you kudos for holding firm to the stance you took regarding this issue. It was certainly a lot more tragic than I expected initially going into this show. No last minute revivals for the Ignis except possibly Ai...and is that the series’ reward for him being willing to die for his love, for attaining a humanity that Go, at one stage, was so willing to throw away? Who knows. 

I don’t blame you, Ai. You were stuck in an awful position. And your response to that was to force Yusaku into one just as terrible. Such a strange mix of selfishness and selflessness at the same time in that decision...but isn’t that just Ai, all over? Or rather, love itself?

Yes, the series seems to say. Love is both selfless and selfish. Lightning was screwed up, but it was his love for life, and by extension the rest of the Ignis that motivated him to come up with a ‘solution’ and an ‘absolute’ one. Yusaku is right to tell Ai:

But:

Except of course, Ai, like Lightning, has searched for an ‘absolute solution.’ And the one he arrives at is: ‘If I want Yusaku to live, then I must die. Because he’s never going to stop protecting me from everyone who wants to do to me, what has been done to Earth.’

Daaaaaamn. I suppose if Ai had wanted to be truely selfless he could have found a way to delete himself without getting Yusaku involved, leaving Yusaku to wonder about him, but maybe convince himself, ignorantly, that Ai was alive and in hiding in the network somewhere for the rest of his life. But Ai can’t do that. Who could? Because...

Who wants to die alone? Of course he’s going to grab for a ‘solution’ that leaves him a chance to be with the one person he has left. To converse with him, and get a verbal and physcial acknowledgement of how much he meant to him. And to reach back and let him know, ‘hey, you meant the world to me; enough that if I had stayed and watched you die, I would have gladly let said world come to an end.’

Ai spent the whole series trying to protect the things he loved and failing, never reaching a successful ‘solution.’ How poignant then, that the first ‘solution’ he picked to protect these things, i.e. crafting Yusaku into his weapon, Playmaker, would end up being the last thing he would grow to love and eventually suceed at protecting at the end.

It’s horribly, selfishly, human. And yet selflessly human too. I guess the series made a point of saying, that despite Revolver’s assertion that humans are valuable becaused of their flesh and blood in the real world, and that the online world can be a lie, that people should focus on what’s important in ‘reality,’ and their ability to experiance things an AI never will...well. As it turns out, love isn’t an exclusively human thing, limited only to the ‘real’ world.

Whoops. The series also implies it’s cruel to make AI too human. For as we all know, humans have been doing terrible things in the name of love for centuries. And given how Ai is like a god in the modern day era, how can we expect him to do anything less with the power he wields?

Thanks Vrains. And kudos on the death scene. It packs a lot of meaning in the lines Ai and Yusaku share before Ai dissappears and Yusaku is forced to grapple with what he told Ai earlier about how life is about making bonds with others, and re-forging new ones in the place of the ones that are severed, in order to be strong enough to move on and survive their loss. And then of course, he buggers off for three months and refuses to call anyone else in his life and put work in developing new bonds or re-establishing existing ones in place of the one he lost with Ai.

I just...Yusaku. You poor thing. I refuse to believe you’re going to just just settle down into being the protector of Vrains and make nice with everyone. I mean, maybe you’ll try. But mostly I’m just interested in what you were doing for three months and how you managed to sketch out a living without anyone from your old life accosting you. I would like to think we get answers one day. But eh, I have my doubts.